Still Doll
by JeNnIcA-iS-tHe-BoMb
Summary: Doll's a bird for Spot Conlon, been his friend for years. And there's nothing Doll wont report to him.
1. Chapter 1

**This came to me randomly. And I've wanted to write this for a while, so here it is. Reviews are lovely.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, only Doll**

Walking fast and with an air of authority, Doll Johnson was not a force to be reckoned with. The other Brooklyn newsies, some of the ones she didn't talk to, got out of her way as fast as they could, knowing that by the speed of her gait that it was important. Very, very important. And if you didn't get out of her way, you'd probably be either pushed into the water or just get knocked out of the way in general. She may have been short but like Spot she had strength. That, and since you were a girl in Brooklyn it was be tough or go home. No exceptions. They didn't care if you were gonna try and take over, or be Spot's girl, but if you caused s**t you were gonna get you're a** beat. That was just how it worked there. Well, that, and Spot was only what? A year into being leader?

Spot Conlon had become leader at the age of fourteen. He was fifteen now, which made Doll fourteen. Not that it mattered, but it seemed now their ages were being noticed. Spot was the toughest leader, yet also one of the youngest. Trash did well on picking him. Doll thought back to all the training that he had gone to, and all she had done to get to where she was. There were some similarities in her and her friend. Like how they were both stubborn as s**t, and tough, but that was probably the farthest it went. They were trained for two entirely different things. He was gonna be the face of Brooklyn, probably of New York. While her? Well, she was suppose to be the background, the person behind Spot, telling him what she knew of whoever was visiting the borough.

She was the bird, he was the leader. There werer differences between them, a thin line. A very, very thin line that was to not be crossed, what so ever.

But of course Trash, the old leader, had known that, and had settled for a compromise. They would work as a team, sort of. She was second in command, and watched over places for Spot. It was how it got to be over the year. No goofing off, no nothing. Everything was business. Sure, they'd talk every once in a while, but that was almost all it got to be. No pranks, no nothing. Spot was to be leader, and she was to be a little birdy in a cage for him. Only to be released when needed. After finally reaching the end of the dock, she looked up at her leader, who looked right down at her, his piercing blue eyes staring down into her brown ones. Climbing down silently, he put his cane into a suspender loop and walked up, getting close enough so they could hear each other without others listening in.

"What do ya got Dollface?" Spot asked quietly, almost barely audible.

"Harlem's actin' up. It ain't even a borough but they'se want ta break away from 'Hattan. Should we interfere?" She replied with the same quietness, looking straight ahead. It was better for Doll to not look him in the face, otherwise she knew she would become unfocused. Business before all else, it was. Most girls thought Spot was handsome, and could have easily gotten distracted by him. The same went for Doll. She wasn't gonna lie and say that she didn't like him like that, when the truth was that Doll loved him more than she ought to. That's what you got when you'd spent too much time with him. Spot shook his head at what she said, and replied.

"They'se jus' tryin' to prove themselves. If they'se wanna act up, let 'em act up. It's Cowboy's problem now," Spot started circling her, speaking louder now, "So Doll, how are ya? I'se heard you and Muse got in another bar fight." Doll winced. Muse was her best friend, and now wasn't the time to rat her out. But, in this there was a problem with this, Spot knew her pressure points, she didn't know his. It was going to be tough, but she was just gonna have to tough this out.

"You'se heard?" she asked innocently, "Well I'se woulda thought ya would, I mean, you'se Spot Conlon. Ya got boidies everywhere-"

"Doll ya aren't goin' ta O'Brady's again. I'se need you in perfect condition, not in bandages, and stitches," he took out his cane and poked her in the side gently, and she winced, clutching her teeth together and shutting her eyes tight, trying to ignore the pain in her side. "Don't even bother goin' to O'Brady's anymore, already talked to them and if you even step foot in there they won't serve you any beer what-so-evah."

Keeping her eyes close, she replied, "Why? Everyone else gets drunk all the time? Am I the exception? Spot I'm not a toy, I'll never be perfect, so why bother? Would you rather me smoke? I'se been t'inkin' of takin' it up since it seems to calm ya down."

"Doll, you'se ain't gonna do any of dat, I need you-"

"In top condition."

"Exactly," he clapped her on the back. Hard. "You'se ain't gonna let me down, are ya Dollface?"

"No Spot."

"Good. I'se goin' ta 'Hattan. Care to join?"

"Sure Spot."

"Alright, let's go, I'se wanna be able ta talk to Cowboy before all the t'ings Hattan's got planned tonight happen. You'll be fine with those other boys for company?"

"Spot, I'm. Not. A. Toy. I don't need a babysitter too." She grounded out. Sure, Doll didn't care if he wanted her to be in 'top condition' but it didn't matter about Manhattan. They had some kind of party going on, leaders only, so she was obliged to go so Spot wouldn't have to go find some random girl to go with or go solo. Besides, no one cared anyway. They figured that if Spot really wanted to spy on them he wouldn't have brought Doll, and would have done it more secretive.

Spot ignored her comment. "Just get dressed for it. We'se leave at four."


	2. Chapter 2

**Out of request from ****methegirl****, I have written a second chapter. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, or Muse, or Bear. Just Doll at the moment, along with Trigger and Ares**

The lodging house wasn't far away from the docks, but at the moment, Doll wished it was. It was already three thirty, and honestly, she didn't own a dress. You couldn't fight in a dress. That, and why _would _she own a dress? 'Maybe I can just get away with trousers,' she thought, but then shook her head, 'Nah, he'll get mad at that.' Climbing up the stairs and pushing the door open, she was greeted to silence, except for the sound of snoring, echoing from the roof. She couldn't help the smile that came to her face. Bear, a fellow bird in combat, was asleep upstairs. Chuckling a little, she walked up the stairs to the girls room, a room that, even though it had plenty of room, was only used by a couple girls, all of whom had practically been selling together since at least the age of thirteen. Looking around a bit, she noticed only Muse, her best friend, was there. Probably still working off the hangover from last night. She still had hers, but thankfully, Coffee worked wonders for the throbbing pain of a hangover, and could see why Muse was still there. The hangover hurt like s**t.

"Hey Muse," she said quietly, careful not to slam the door. Muse groaned, putting a pillow over her head, snorting, Doll stated, "Get up I'se need your help ya lazy bum. Didn't ya try to heal that hangover?"

Muse looked up, glaring, "Nah, it hurts to much, 'esides, don't cha hurt all ovah from dat fight?"

"Course I do, but I'se gonna ignore da pain."

"Then why do ya need me help?"

"Cause I have ta go to a party wit' Spot and apparently I'se has ta look good for it since it's leadah's only and stuff." There was silence, then Muse started laughing. Doll shook her head, "Yes, yes, let's laugh at me. Enjoy while you're still in _pain."_ She stated pain loudly, and Muse covered her ears. She smirked.

"Well what are ya gonna do for a dress?"

"That's why I came to you."

"You're kidding right?"

"Nope."

"S**t."

"Yep."

Muse thought about it. "Cant cha just borrow one from Medda?" Doll shook her head, "Well, maybe Velvet left a few dresses here?" now that was a possibility. Velvet had been Trash's girlfriend, and she was always trying to get whatever girls were in Brooklyn to wear a dress. Hell, she was the only girl in Brooklyn who could wear a dress and roundhouse kick some guy to oblivion. Yep, Velvet was definitely an idol to girls. Nodding, she went over to one of the few dressers and started opening up the drawers, and sure enough, Velvet had left a few dresses for them. She cursed under her breath. Muse laughed, holding her head a little since it still probably hurt, "Looks like ya have ta go now."

Grumbling, she grabbed a random dress from the drawer that looked like it would fit, and trudged over to the bathroom to change. Putting it on, she looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. This wasn't her, Doll Johnson did not wear dresses. It was a strict code with her. She pulled down the dress a little, and looked at her hair. It was dark brown, with some areas lighter from the sun. Sighing, she pulled her hair back and tied it with a ribbon in a loose bun. A few strands of hair fell onto her face but she simply brushed them aside, coming out of the bathroom to look for a pair of matching shoes. Muse whistled, "Who are you'se and what have ye done to Doll?"

"Oh ha, very funny Muse. Why, I'm rollin' on da floor laughin' cause yer such a comedian." She opened up a closet, mainly used for storage, and found a bunch of shoes lined up at the back. Doll couldn't help but smile at the thought of their friend Moth doing this for them. Out of all the girls, Moth was the girlish. Tough, but girlish. Grabbing a pair, she slipped them on quickly and quickly ran back to the bathroom, splashing water on her face to get rid of whatever dirt she could. Grabbing a towel and drying her face off, she rushed out of the room and down the steps, looking over at the clock the lodge owner had. It was three fifty nine. Cursing, she lifted the front of the dress up and ran as fast as she could to get outside to meet up with Spot. Bumping into Bear, she immediately apologized but rushed out the door.

Spot looked at his watch, then at her. It was quiet, and while she was catching her breath, she heard him say, "You'se a minute late Dollface." Doll sighed, not even bothering to retort to that. Sizing her up, he nodded, "Ya cleaned up nicely, now let's go, I'se wanna-"

"Talk to Cowboy. I know, and you have to talk to Ares and Trigger." Ares and Trigger were two of the current leaders, but definitely would Change. Trigger was Queens and Ares was Bronx. Trigger was a medium height guy, with dust colored hair and hazel eyes. He could keep out of borough wars easily. Meanwhile Ares… he was a strong, tall boy with red hair and blazing brown eyes, and muscles. He was crazy, but a good strategist. Both of those leaders would pick someone with at least a similar talent. Spot knew those guys were gonna want to see the new Brooklyn leader, Trash's boy.

Spot wasn't Trash's actual son, but he had learned everything from the guy. Nodding, he jerked his head towards the Brooklyn Bridge. "Let's just go." Doll followed, pulling at the dress again. For Brooklynites they washed up pretty nicely. Spot wore some of his nicer clothing, and Doll wore a pretty simple dress. Nothing that would catch any attention. They walked brisk and fast, and any newsie they passed knew they were on a mission. That mission, was to get to Manhattan in one piece, which wasn't hard. Being a Brook had its perks. Doll couldn't help but roll her eyes as she saw a few newsies staring at her.

"Can't believe I have to wear this," she muttered, tugging at the dress more, becoming even more uncomfortable at the thought of having to be in front of all those leaders. Spot could tell, and he nudged her in the side gently.

"Don't worry, if any of them come near you'se, I'll soak 'em." Spot had always been protective of Doll, they were protective of each other. They always had been, after Trash left. Doll lost her twin brother, and Spot didn't have anyone. They just stuck together. Spot pushed the door of the Manhattan lodging house open, and walked in, followed by Doll. If they were gonna be here, they were gonna show they were tough, and not gonna take any of Trigger and Ares' crap of the day, they just wanted to get all of this over with, in a literal sense so that they wouldn't have to deal with it all later on.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three! ****Methegirl**** requested it, so here it is! ^^**

**Disclaimer: I don't own newsies, only the OC's mentioned in this chapter.**

The Manhattan Lodging house, lest to say, was not quiet at the moment. It would be later, when Cowboy made them all go upstairs. And Doll couldn't help but wish that would be sooner. "Gonna go talk to Jack," Spot stated, finally spotting the Manhattan leader, "Hang around Race ok?" she rolled her eyes. Before she could even retort he sent her a look, "Just do it ok?" With that, he turned and started for the Manhattan leader, who hadn't even spotted the two Brooks yet. "Well if it ain't Jack be nimble, Jack be quick," he stated, finally getting Cowboy's attention. The whole lodge was silent, "Need ta talk to ya, _without _your newsies listenin' in."

"Well how do I know you ain't gonna send your little boidy over there to spy on the conversation?" Jack replied, calm and collected, conversationally almost. Spot narrowed his eyes, along with Doll, who, by now, had been spotted. She strode up to the two leaders, and before Spot could even say anything she stated.

"Listen Cowboy, I ain't gonna spy on ya. Da fact ya even said that is just awful to a point dat ya don't trust a fellow leader, who's been kind enough to help you since he was _chosen _as leader, unlike you who had to _gain _leadership because when _your _leader left you, he _abandoned _you." Doll was mad. Mad was an understatement. The fact that Jack didn't trust Spot enough to a point where he always thought every conversation would be heard, then he didn't deserve any respect from any Brook. Spot sent her a look.

"No need ta get offended Dollface," Jack stated, but quickly fixed what he said at the glaring from both the Brooklynites, "I mean Doll, but I'se was just sayin' that Spot, being who he is just needs ta know what's goin' on and would probably want someone to watch ovah the conversation and-"

"And have Doll spy on a meeting that doesn't involve her, or any other newsies except for you and me, Cowboy? Nice try. Ya can't smooth talk yarself out of that Jacky boy," Spot stated, he looked over at Doll with his eyes, "Calm down Dollface," she unclenched her fists, something she had done subconsciously, she noticed, but kept her eyes narrowed at Jack, "Doll…" she made her face impassive, void of emotion. "Good girl, I'll meet up with ya after Cowboy and I talk." Jack nodded quickly, and motioned for Spot to follow him to an area of the lodge where they wouldn't be disturbed. It was still quiet.

All eyes moved from the two leaders to Doll, who stood stoic still, her muscles tense. She felt her jaw twitch a little at the silence. Silence was something she was good at, but when it was being used against her it made her jumpy, like something would happen at any moment. Finally, Racetrack broke the silence. "Well that sure was entertainin', how bout a game of poker?" a couple newsies groaned, but Kid Blink and Mush were game. He looked over at Doll, "What 'bout you Doll, you'se game? I have ta watch ovah ya for Spot anyway."

"Nah, not a big poker fan, I like pool better," 'maybe because I played pool at O'Brady's,' she thought starkily, 'Oh well we have a pool table in the back room.' "I'll watch, but you'se _don't _have ta watch ovah me."

Racetrack shrugged, and went over to one of the tables out, and Doll watched as the three boys started a game of Texas Hold em. Leaning against a wall, she could see was cheating and who wasn't. Racetrack was obviously cheating, Blink was gonna try, and Mush, poor, innocent Mush wasn't cheating and getting thoroughly confused as to why he was losing so poorly. After a while, Bumlets, Skittery and Pie Eater joined, and Doll kept watching. What was taking so long? The sudden whistling from the doorway stopped everyone and made her tense up. Everyone looked up, and in the doorway was Ares. He was fierce looking, and probably was wondering why there were so many newsies here. Jack and Spot came back from their meeting, and saw him. "Ares," Jack said, "You're early. Just lemme make sure all me newsies get upstairs before Trigger comes."Ares nodded, and you didn't have to tell the Manhattan newsies to go upstairs they were practically gone in a flash.

The cards were still on the table, and Doll went to go grab them when Ares yanked her back. "What do you think your doin' still down here? Didn't ya hear your leader?" she tried to remain calm, keeping her face impassive like earlier. Ares scared the living s**t out of her. Squirming in his grip, Doll tried to yank her arm back but Ares was strong.

"'Ey Ares, let go of me second before ye yank her arm out of its socket," Spot narrowed his eyes at Ares, yanking Ares' hand off of her arm. Rubbing it, she glared at Ares, but moved so she could stand next to Spot.

Ares laughed, "Your second? Your second in command is a _girl_?" he roared with laughter, "What was Trash thinking?" Ares was a full natural jacka**. His second, Bones along with his girl Lacey and Bones' girl Pointer walked in, and looked over at the two Brooklynites.

"Who's that Ares?" Lacey asked snobbishly, "I didn't know 'Hattan allowed Brooklyn trash on its turf." That was like a slap to the face for Doll. She knew Lacey was talking about her, because leaders, to her, weren't trash. Other newsies were. Lacey had blonde hair, and grey eyes. She always thought she was better because she was Ares' girl, but others just thought she was a total b***h.

"Apparently they do Lace," Pointer said snidely, "You can tell it's trash too, because she's wearing one of Velvet's dresses." The two older girls laughed, and Doll felt like she wanted to just crawl in a hole and die. Everyone knew girls could be vicious, and newsgirls were no different. She felt the blush from embarrassment creep onto her cheeks.

"She ain't trash Lacey," Spot said calmly, "Cause unlike you, she doesn't give her body away for money, same as you'se Pointah." Doll felt increasingly happy at that. Spot wasn't afraid to fight back, and she couldn't even find the words to say. They both knew one thing for sure, it was that the Leader's girls were either the most vicious, mean girls, or they were nice, and cared, same as the leader. Because of this, Lacey, and Velvet when she was a newsie, were the biggest enemies ever. Those girls butted heads so much that Trash and Ares were happy to stay away from eachother. They were opposites, no doubt. So why should Lacey treat Doll any other way?

"I'm his second in command to, Lacey, and that's better than bein' Ares' goil, ya know why?" Doll added, "Cause I don't have ta listen to you'se give me s**t that ain't worth me time." Before Lacey could even reply, Trigger came in, with his girl Trinket, and his second in command, Knives.

"Alright we're here, no need to butt heads," he stated, and Lacey backed off. Doll smirked in triumph. Ares nodded, but narrowed his eyes at the Brooks, who narrowed their eyes right back. The leaders looked over at the table, the poker game from before untouched. Jack motioned for all of them to sit.

"Looks like we can play some poker while we talk," he stated, pulling up a seat and taking in the cards to shuffle. 'A poker party,' Doll thought sarcastically, 'Joy.' She wasn't a poker player, more of a pool person. But, not wanting to look like an idiot, she picked up the cards, and automatically wished she didn't.

Most didn't know this, not even Spot, but she had problems reading, no exceptions on it. The letters and numbers, whenever she tried to read them, she got confused. Looking at the pictures on the cards instead. Most of the girls stayed silent, along with the seconds, as the leaders talked, and laughed. Spot didn't laugh, Doll noticed, only smirked. That's when Jack got up and came back with beer for everyone. Picking one of the glasses up, Spot sent her a look that said, 'Don't even think 'bout it.' But, she wasn't gonna listen, that'd be rude to not take a drink when offered. So, she took a nice long sip of it and put it down.

"Damn," Ares stated, watching, "How old are you?"

"Fourteen," Doll replied.

"You sure can hold your liquor for a fourteen year old."

"I've had a lot of practice," she shot a quick glance at Spot, who she knew could hold his liquor better than anyone.

Ares laughed, the boy could get drunk easily, which made him dangerous, "Can all you Brooks hold your liquor?"

"Yea," Spot said wearily, you could tell he didn't want to tell Ares anything. Sensing the conversation was gonna get a bit rough, he said, "Hey Dollface, grab me some food from the kitchen?" Translation: If you hear screaming in the next five minutes, only come in if you hear anything violent, and back me up. Nodding, she got up and walked into the kitchen, looking around. Then she heard something. Not from where Spot was, but from the room. As far as she knew, she was the only one in the room. Doll's suspicions were confirmed when she turned around. But in a split second, the person behind her had shoved her against the counter, a knife at her neck. Only one thought came to her mind, at the moment for the bird, "Oh. S**t."

"Now listen, and listen good, you're gonna do me a favor, got it Dollface?" the person sneered, their hat pulled far down so she couldn't see their eyes. Only one thought came to mind then, "Oh. Shit."


	4. Chapter 4

**Ok, so since I keep being told to update, I update. **

**Disclaimer: you know the drill. I don't own.**

Doll made her voice emotionless, and tried to figure out who this person is. "Good, glad I have your attention," the boy said, low enough for both of them to hear, "Your Spot's little birdy. The one he keeps in a wire cage for himself, so you may chirp in his ear about what _isn't _his business."

"If it ain't business then it's crap, all borough affairs are his business," she replied quietly, and clenched her teeth as the blade brushed against her skin.

"Shut up," he growled, "listen, and listen good, girl. They're gonna discuss Harlem, and I need you to convince Spot that Harlem should be its own borough. Got it? We wouldn't want this pretty little neck to go to waste now would we?" he pushed the knife lightly, enough to create a thin line, and Doll clenched her jaw tighter. A light trickle of blood ran down her neck. She winced, and the boy smirked. "I believe we have a deal?"

Doll did probably one of the most stupid things she possibly could have done. Spitting in his face, she grounded out between her teeth, "Go to hell you lousy s**t." Growling, before he could push the knife further she went to grab a pot but it fell with a clatter. The boy kneed her in the stomach and ran, obviously to not get caught. Holding her stomach, she groaned and fell, clutching her stomach. She heard people run in, and someone kneel in front of her. Spot.

"S**t who did this Doll?" he asked, and you could hear the menace in his voice. He tilted Doll's chin up, and ran a finger over the cut. Now Spot was mad. Someone had hurt her. Still doubled over, she pushed herself up.

"Damn Harlem," she choked out. Doll was normally a strong girl, but her twin, Soldier, he had died at a knife, she hated knifes. And now she knew how scary it was to be held at knifepoint. Shutting her eyes tightly, she felt her neck where the knife was. Tears ran down her face.

Spot cursed, and went to get something to clean the cut with. Trigger shook his head, "Harlem's becoming a problem. Queens is staying out of this, sorry Doll," he knelt down beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder, "You'll be fine. The first knife is always the hardest." She shook her head, crying. Lacey and Pointer just looked at with like they pitied her. Doll hated pity. She may have been the youngest there but she hated pity. Spot came back with a first aid kit, and Jack made Trigger and Ares and their crews leave. Doll leaned against two of the cupboards, wiping her eyes. Spot took a cloth and moved her hands from her eyes, and started wiping at her neck.

"Who did this Dollface?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Pos-"

"Spot," Doll said, looking at him, "Just shut up, please." He nodded, and went over and grabbed a bandage, wrapping it around her neck. It was silent in the kitchen. Jack watched the two Brooks, how they watched after eachother.

"I think it might be best if you two went home," he said, and the Brooks were happy to oblige. Getting up, the two walked in silence. Doll looked forward, and Spot would open his mouth every once in a while, as if to start a conversation, but would stop. Soon enough they both just walked in silence. None of them truly could talk at the moment. They were just too spooked to say anything. None of them wanted to talk, and Doll personally didn't give a s**t. She was jumpy, enough to set her on edge. She wanted a beer. She could have _killed _for a beer. It would have at least calmed her down a little. Most Brooklynites drank, and Doll was no different. They wouldn't let certain kids drink, because they were young, but after a while you were allowed, and she honestly could have drank every single bottle they had in the lodge at the moment she was so spooked.

Finally, Spot asked, "What did they want anyway?"

"They wanted me to convince you to get them to convince that Harlem was its own territory."

"But why? Why would they want to be its own territory? It just doesn't make sense."

"Because it's a big neighborhood, they aren't a borough, so maybe they just wanted their own?"

"They've never had a problem until now Dollface. You and I know that."

"Well one thing's for sure," she said, "They know pressure points." Doll shuddered, and Spot put an arm on her shoulders, offering her a half smile. Another reason she liked Spot, he was her friend, and he knew if she was mad, scared, or happy. And he knew she probably would have done the same for him if she had to at all. But Spot was tough, and it was hard for him to see his friend like this. She was normally strong, a Brooklyn girl all the way through, but now, she just seemed scared. Like a real fourteen year old girl who was on the street, with only the money she earned.

Meanwhile Doll was just happy that she was alive. That, and she felt better to be around Spot. She loved him, which was a painful thing, but he couldn't know. If he knew, then it would be the end of her. Why? He probably didn't love her back, and she'd rather spend her life having Spot not know, then know and resent ever meeting her. That was how it felt to her, they're relationship had always been platonic. But then again, it was cruel. She was a bird, he was the leader. It wouldn't work. It just wouldn't work. Looking up, she saw the moon was out, and stared at it a little, shrugging Spot's arm off. It was too much to be that close to him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Bah, I fail at updating. -_- I love all your reviews =) thanks for still reading if you are**

**Disclaimer: look at the other chapters**

When the two got home, Doll went up and changed while Spot went and gathered a few of the more trusted newsies. Bear, Muse, Enya, Moth, a little kid named Singer, Berlin, and Doll came back down with all of them. They were solemn. They looked at the two leaders, Spot pacing and Doll sitting on a chair, her legs hanging over one of the arms and her arms crossed, her brows furrowed in concentration. Anyone who walked in could tell the two were thinking, and thinking hard. Finally, Muse broke the silence, "Ok will one of you stop worrying and tell us what's going on?"

"Harlem," Spot stated bluntly, still pacing. Bear yawned. He never really liked being awake anyway. The other newsies stared at Spot and Doll. "Doll, you and da othah goils go upstairs and sleep, same goes for you guys too, I need to talk to someone." They all complied, Doll almost resisted but didn't. Trudging up the stairs, she looked to double check the others were with her. They all had gone to sleep, but she was still awake. Doll couldn't even find a way to be tired; she was way to wound up. Tossing and turning, she turned in her bunk to look over at the window, and could see the moon, just there. There was nothing important about it, but she just looked. Closing her eyes, she tried to get to sleep, but the voice from the boy who held her at knife point still echoed in her ears, to a point where she couldn't take it anymore. As quietly as she could, she snuck out of her bunk and started walking slowly towards the stairs, the ones that led to the roof.

Treading quietly, she opened the door, and was surprised to see Spot there, this late. He turned around. Doll started trying to think of good excuses, but ending up smiling meekly and shrugging, "Couldn't sleep," she said lamely.

"Me too," he replied, and stared back out at Brooklyn. Doll went over to pile of crates, and climbed up on one, and sat, looking around, before finally resting on her forearms. Spot came over and sat a bit higher up. After a few moments of silence, she stopped moving, a habit that had come to her after Soldier died. It was quiet between the King and his bird, but that much was asked for. One was full of rage, the other wound up too tight. Spot's birds we're in a cage, and Doll felt like that cage was becoming a bit too small. Spot took his cane and poked her in the side, "Hey Dollface start movin'. You'se startin' ta freak me out." Doll shook her head, coming out of her trance of stillness.

"Sorry, just forget to move sometimes," she looked over at Spot, and he looked back. They both knew why that was, and they'd both rather not talk. Doll looked away quickly, trying in vain to keep her mind off the boy sitting next to her. She knew only two people that knew of her feelings for Spot; Muse and Bear. They were her best friends, and they knew when she wanted to be alone. Who didn't, when you loved someone who was unattainable? Everyone knew Spot just didn't like girls enough to claim one, but he always made sure no one hurt the ones in his borough. He didn't give a rat's a** if she was from Bronx, as long as it wasn't a Brookie he was fine. But, little too Doll's knowledge, Spot felt more than protective.

Spot Conlon was suppose to be the poster child of fearless, tough kids with grown up eyes. He had friends, he hoped, but Doll was a friend who apparently wasn't too afraid of him. He was angry at that. God Damnit why couldn't she be like other girls? Why wouldn't she be scared of him!? Looking over at her again, he wished sometimes she didn't come up here; she was always up here whenever he was up here. Well, not all the time, but enough to the point where their friendship actually survived. He hated that. He wanted her to be away from him, because he knew that he could seriously hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her, he didn't want to hurt a friend. He'd lost too much, and losing a friend wasn't on his agenda. In fact… he liked that about Doll, in ways. She always wanted to prove herself, to show him she wasn't afraid of him… but was she not afraid? He didn't want to ask, he didn't want to even bother. Instead he looked her over. The moon created a silhouette of his friend, and he could note everything, where her eyes were, and how they sometimes hid behind her hair, how her jaw twitched a little, as if she wanted to say something to break the silence. Despite himself he smiled.

Normally he didn't smile, but he made sure he got rid of it quickly. Spot Conlon didn't smile. He made his face emotionless, and hardened his eyes. That was better, it was more him. No one was allowed to see him smile, he didn't care who you were, or if you were a friend or not. He just didn't want you to see him smiling. He looked away from Doll, and out at his kingdom. His Brooklyn, no one else could rule it like he did. Birdies chirped in his ear about all that went on, and no one dare question him. Why no one questioned him was simple, he was king. The newsies, his subjects, but what of his friends? What of the other leaders? He didn't care about them. Ares and Trigger would be gone soon, which would mean that he and Jack would have more control, but that would give Spot just as much to control. He liked the control, it was something stable, and he could control it. He could control someone else's fear for him. The infamous leader of New York.


	6. Chapter 6

***Falls over* finally wrote this. Since school is almost over, (like, 21 and ½ days right now, not counting weekends), I most likely will be writing more. So here it is!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Newsies, or Bear. Just Doll, Singer, and Ares**

The next morning, Doll woke up on the roof, the light and heat from the sun radiating. It was a bit chilly, but expected. It was fall, and soon enough it would be winter. Looking around, she noticed Spot was on the floor, sleeping below the crates. Groggily, she nudged him, "Hey, Spot," he groaned, and took his hat, covering his eyes. She could faintly hear, 'five more minutes.' She nudged him again, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, time to wake up. Your Prince Charmin' ain't comin' anytime soon." He grumbled in reply,

"I'se get a princess, not a prince," he took Doll's arm and yanked it down, causing her to yelp, and groan a little when she fell on her back, "I'se get five more minutes."

"No ya don't ya lousy bum," trying, and failing, to get her arm away from Spot, she decided that if he wasn't going to get his behind up, she was gonna take him down. Doll started for the edge of the roof. Spot was slowly waking up when he felt most of his lower back slipping, and his eyes opened wide and he yanked Doll's arm, as if to try and pull himself up from falling. But of course, this only made their predicament worse. Instead of pulling himself up, and away from falling, both of them were falling off the lodge roof, and into the river next to the lodge.

They realized their mistake a bit too late. When they hit the water, Doll heard a sickening crack, and shot up from under the water, gasping for breath. It felt like something was stabbing her lungs, and she ran a hand over her ribs. One of them was broken. Looking around, she saw Spot come up for air, and search around for his hat, which was, by now, very, very wet. He roared, "Why'd you do that?!"

"Well sorry for trying to wake you up!" she winced a little, and he swam over.

"You'se ok?"

"I'm perfectly fine."

"You'se lying."

"So?"

"So you'se hurt."

"Your point?"

"I'se thought I heard a crack when he hit the water, did ya break something?"

"That's none of your business."

"It be me business now." And with that, Spot grabbed Doll's arm, his eyes ablaze, "Where's the break?" she scowled, but pointed to her broken rib. In one swift movement Spot had let go of her arm and had placed the rib back in place. Doll yelped in surprise. He muttered an apology and jerked his head for her to follow. She followed, and the two made their way to shore, only to find Singer, who, as usual, was his perky eleven year old self.

"Hey Spot, hey, Doll! What are you two doin' out in the water this early it's probably freezing! I remember one time, I was with Muse, and we were at the docks, and then, she pushed me in because I kept talking about this banana I found outside. It was the most PERFECT banana! I mean-"

"Shut Up, Singer," the two said in unison, heading back to the lodging house, with Singer following right behind. He kept going on with his rambling,

"And this banana, I mean, had like, NO BRUISES! It was perfectly yellow, but a little green at the top, and when I saw it, THE ANGELS WERE SINGING! TESTIFY ANGELS TESTIFY!" Doll could faintly hear Spot muttering under his breath, 'I am never letting him go to church again,' and she laughed a little. "And then, the banana, I took it, and I brought it back to the lodging house! Then I named him Jonathan," Singer didn't seem to notice the look on Spot's face when he heard the name Jonathan. Doll noticed it, but didn't question, it must have been part of his past, a past she'd never know, "and then, with Jonathan, we happily skipped around the lodge, and then I ate him! The, End!" Singer beamed, his hair getting in his eyes.

Doll and Spot looked at each other, then at Singer. How did he fit in to Brooklyn again? Doll shook her head, little water droplets coming off her hair. Spot just looked forward again. Trying to refresh his memory as to why this all happened.

_Spot watched Doll out of the corner of his eye, as her eyes started to close, and knew she was getting tired. She shifted to a more comfortable position, and took her hat, covering her eyes. "Spot?"_

"_Yea?" _

"_Wake me up if I'se drift, ok?"_

"_Sure thing." He wouldn't though. He needed her to be able to get up bright and early, to start the day, and to gather information on Harlem. Spot watched, and could tell that by now, she was asleep. Her breathing was slow, and she seemed almost smaller in her sleep. Not that she wasn't already short. Hell that girl was tiny, probably four feet eleven inches or five feet. She was roughly a half foot shorter than him, so most of that was just guessing._

_Moving off the crates, he sat down in front of the now sleeping Doll, and pulled his hat down, keeping a keen ear on their surroundings. He would drift off to sleep soon enough, but what with that kid randomly- no, pulling a knife on Doll wasn't random. Spot changed his plans then, no one would leave Brooklyn. He wasn't letting his birds go somewhere where they might get hurt. But he had to get contact with Ares. He'd go to Bronx in the morning._

Sighing, Spot followed Singer inside, Doll right beside them. The other newsies, too groggy to care, let them pass, but Spot stopped in the midst of them. Clearing his throat, the newsies looked at him. Doll could hear him from the stairs. "Listen, I'se don't know if ye know dis or not, but last night at da meetin' in 'Hattan, some bum came and pulled a knife on someone," now everyone was awake, "So I'se want you all to stay in Brooklyn, travel in pairs. Boids you aren't ta leave the lodge, got it?"

The birds started to protest, and Doll couldn't help but smile. Spot may have ruled Brooklyn, but Doll had her little birdies. Spot whistled and they all silenced, and started to glower, heading over to the backroom, or elsewhere in the lodge to find entertainment. Spot left, and those who weren't birds, which generally was practically all the Brooklyn newsie population, except for about her, Bear, and three other kids, left to sell.

Resuming her walk upstairs, she looked at the two open doors, one for the boys, the other for the girls, but saw the closed door ahead of her. Doll knew who's room that was, and knew what would happen if she went in there. But still… the thought of being one of the first kids to see the inside of Spot's room… well, it was different. Not many had been in his room, hell, _no one _went into his room, but she was curious. What lie behind that door?

She walked over to it, ignoring the pain in her side, until someone grabbed her arm and put their hand over her mouth. Doll heard the all too familiar voice from behind her, and the familiar feeling of metal pushed against her, this time, at her side, "Well, well, well, looks like Spot didn't count on me being here, now did he? Come on, how 'bout we get a little privacy, eh?" The boy kept the blade pressed at her side, and could now feel it against her skin. He had cut a hole in her shirt, and the blade felt cold. That's when she realized she had no back up, they were all downstairs, and there was no one who could help her.

Now the prospect of seeing the inside of Spot's room, had lost its curiosity, and now she dreaded it. Trying to get his hand away from her mouth, she licked it, and he turned her around, pushing her against a wall roughly, and moving the blade so it was at her neck. Instead of freaking out, she tried to memorize what he looked like, keeping a snarl on her face. He had long, orange hair, not too long, enough to cover his eyes, and was pail. He towered over at her at maybe six feet tall, and was lean, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His mouth was a tight line that turned slowly into an angry frown.

"Think you can get away with doing that, shrimp?"

Feeling a bit egotistical, she replied, "Why, yes, yes I do." Before the boy could retort, something zoomed by and hit him in the neck, while someone taller than the boy grabbed him from behind, pulling him away from Doll, but he wouldn't let go of her wrist, and felt the blade fall, slicing her chest, cutting her shirt a little, and someone grabbed the knife, while she turned to twist the boys arm and he let go.

"Well, I'se leave for five minutes to talk to Ares and this is what I get?" Spot's voice cut through the commotion and the boy stopped fighting against his captor. Doll looked over to see who was holding him, and saw Ares, a mean look on his face. "Come on," Spot said, jerking his head toward his room, "It's the only place all of us are gonna get privacy, and I'se don't want anyone not involved in on this." Ares grunted, and they followed Spot, the boy still struggling, while Doll kept her arms folded, trying to cover the hole in her shirt. This was gonna get interesting.


	7. Chapter 7

**Just so you know, I love yall. Special shout outs go to ****methegirl, kati, ****and ****cybale. Methegirl ****your telling me to update always help me out, ****kati****, your review actually made me want to write. Thanks for not calling Doll a ditz and all =] made my day. That, and she does have drinking problems ;) more on that later. ****Cybale,**** your always there reviewing my stories, so special thanks to you too!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, or Bear. **

Walking into the room, Doll was surprised by how different it was from the other rooms. It was... nice looking. Organized. Sure, there were a few things lying around on the floor, but it still was a hell lot cleaner than the other rooms. Honestly? The girls were a whole lot messier than the guys. Probably because there weren't a lot of girls in Brooklyn. Looking around, she spotted a bottle of beer on the window sill, unfinished. She walked nonchalantly over to it and grabbed it, about to take a drink when a hand covered the top, keeping the amber liquid from coming out.

"No Doll."

"Yes Spot."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"It's one simple beer."

"You'se not drinking."

"It's here, isn't it? What you gonna leave a beer unfinished?"

"WILL BOTH OF YOU KNOCK IT OFF!?" came the angry voice of Ares, and Spot moved his hand, going back to their captor. Doll took the beer and drank a nice long swig, Ares shook his head at her, "Alcoholic at thirteen. Shame."

"I'm fourteen."

"You look like your twelve."

"You look like a jackass."

"You sound like you need a beer."

"SHE IS NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE THE BEER!" Spot yelled, grabbing the bottle and putting it outside, shutting the window. Their prisoner looked highly amused, and motioned at Doll to look at her chest, to which she remembered the hole and went to the door, only to have Spot block her with the cane. "Not so fast Dollface, where you'se goin'? I need ya here."

"togetanewshirt."

"What?"

"I said to GET A NEW SHIRT."

"Oh," Spot turned his head, coughing a little, trying to hide the small blush that had crept on his face, "Right. Go ahead."

"You know what? Just cause you said that I'm gonna steal one of your shirts."

"You'se wouldn't. Doll don't you dare go over there! Damnit that's my good shirt!" she shrugged, buttoning the navy blue shirt up, rolling the sleeves up to her elbows. Feeling childish, she stuck her tongue out at him and he snorted. Ares' laughter boomed through the room, but he quickly stopped when the prisoner tried to get up and escape. Spot walked over to him, taking his cane and lifting the prisoner's chin up. "You'se got a name?"

"Yea. And it's none of your business." _Smack! _The boy groaned as he was slapped with the gold edge of the cane, a bruise forming around his eye, "Fine! It's Red, ok? It's Red." Spot smirked. He never had any problem getting a name out of someone. You just had to show you meant business. He glanced over at Doll, who was watching, and nodded her head a little, signaling that was him. Nodding back at her, he said, "Ares, tie him to a chair, we don't want him running away."

Ares narrowed his eyes, "I'm not a lap dog, Spot, you can't tell me what to-"

"Yes he can," Doll interjected, a steady glare on her face, "This is his borough, not yours, so why dontcha be a good boy and tie up da hostage?" Ares grumbled something inaudible, but she rolled her eyes. Spot circled Red, noting the details. His hat had flown off his head when Spot had hit him, and his green eyes were visible now, set in a glare aimed at Doll. Thing was, Red's eyes scared her. Sure, she was used to Spot's icy ones, hell she found them beautiful, but Red's… they just scared her. They reminded her of a storm at sea, the sky a grey color and the water a green teal color. His eyes were the water, the whites of his eyes were red, bloodshot, and that reminded her of the clouds, with lightning striking at the sea.

Doll found it hard to keep an angry glare at Red, and knew she was slowly moving towards the wall, her arms crossed. There was fear laced in with the hate, and Red smirked, "Looks like I can scare the little Brookie. What's wrong Dolly? Scared of a boy?" his laughter disturbed her. His appearance, everything about him disturbed her. It was like he was a fox, his face even _looked _like a foxes. Spot stepped between her and Red.

"Leave her alone," he growled, "Otherwise you'se won't be able to see out of both eyes."

"Won't matter, at least Harlem wouldn't lock our 'birdies' up like you do. Especially our best. You keep your little birdie over there locked up so tight that she probably can't breathe."

"Shut up," Spot grounded through his teeth, but Red continued.

"I mean, does your little Dolly actually _have _a life? Or are you gonna guard her like she's your favorite little toy, then when your through with her just throw her back into the toybox?"

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

"Why? Cause it's the truth?" Doll looked between the two boys, you could sense the testosterone.

"How 'bout this little Red head," Ares said, grabbing him by the jaw, practically squishing it, hell it might have gotten broken, "Why you goin' after Brooklyn eh?" Red smirked,

"Cause, who better to attack then the King?" Ares punched him in the jaw, sending him flying, the chair cracking from the impact of falling.

"HE AINT NO KING! HE HASN'T BEEN LEADER LONG ENOUGH! I SHOULD BE KING! NOT THAT BRAT!" Spot immediately punched Ares in the gut, and when Ares doubled over he grabbed Ares head and kneed him in the face, and you could see the blood streaming down from Ares' nose. He held it, and you could see the raw anger on Spot's face, to a point where Ares took a few steps back, and Doll kept herself close to the wall, trying to stay far away from the fighting. She would have jumped in, but Spot… no Brooklynite liked to admit it, but when Spot fought someone, it was scary. You avoided that. Red was laughing.

"See Ares? You're a dead beat, Spot is king. Fourteen and he soaked you, look over there! Even his little birdy over there is scared of him!" Red couldn't stop laughing. Spot turned around and saw Doll, and he could that no matter how hard she tried to keep her face void of emotion, that he had scared her. It was in his eyes.

"Get Bear, Doll," he said, and then turned to Ares, "As for you. Get out of me borough ye trash. And if I'se a brat, you're a biggah one den me." You didn't have to tell the two twice to leave. Ares left, not before shoving his way past Doll, and literally slamming her in the wall. Note to self, she thought to herself, stay away from Ares.

Walking around the quiet lodging house, she found Bear in the pool room, and motioned for him to follow. They walked in silence, until Bear finally asked, "Hey, why are you wearing Spot's shirt?" Doll looked down at the ground as they walked.

"It's a long story." Bear kept it at that. Ever since Soldier had left, Bear had been like her brother. He watched after her and Doll watched after him. It was a bit of how it went in Brooklyn. Sure they were tough, but that didn't mean they didn't protect their own. When one of their own was threatened, you didn't want to be the offender. They opened the door, and saw Spot there, and now Red was tied up more tightly.

"Bear, watch over him for me? Keep him in the backroom. I'se need to talk to Doll quickly before we come down to interrogate him more." Bear nodded, and he picked up the chair, with Red in it, and took him to the backroom. Bear was strong, and tall. Doll was about to follow him, when Spot stepped in her path and closed the door. "We need to talk."


	8. Chapter 8

**WHOOT! NEW CHAPTER! Not long till summer (thank god) and ****kali****, again, you have not only made my day with what you wrote on Quizilla, but you made my YEAR. Yea, I was just that happy. Sorry ****methegirl ****for confusing you, hopefully I don't confuse you in this chapter =). ****Cybale ****you also contribute to the updating of le story, and ****Mighty Lion****, funny is what I am for ;) glad to know that you thought that part was funny, cause I was hopin' on that. Anyway, HERE IS LE CHAPTER! Oh, and to all who add this to their story alerts and favorites, (and to who added me to their favorite author) I would like to thank you, cause that totally made me feel awesome.**

"Ok then," Doll replied, keeping her arms crossed, "Talk." Honestly, this was rather nerve racking. Hell, she was in Spot's room with the door closed, so hopefully no one got the wrong impression. And if they did… well, there was gonna be hell.

Spot looked down at her, a stern look on his face, "Ares is right."

"Right? What's he right about?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Doll, when was the last time you could walk somewhere, see a beer, and _not _drink it?" She fell silent. Spot grabbed her arm, but she shrugged it off, trying to make her to the door. He stuck his arm out, blocking her path and pulling her into an awkward hug. Doll gasped a little, surprised that Spot was actually _hugging _her. That was a big no-no with him. You could try and get a hug out of that boy and he wouldn't even budge. He didn't know how to give hugs. Her face was crushed against his chest, her arms trapped at her side. Spot had the intent of talking to her, and wasn't letting this subject dropped. "Johanna do you know what happens when people get drunk?"

He used her first name; this meant this was a serious conversation. That's what made her tell she had to listen, that, and he only used her first name when scolding her. Knowing that he now had her attention, Spot continued, "You'se hurt people. Drunk people hurt people. It mess with your brain, and it makes you hurt people." She tried to nod her head, but couldn't.

"Spot?" she said, her voice muffled, "Why you'se tellin' me this now?"

"Cause," he replied, "I'se need you in top shape." He let go, opened the door and looked behind him, "Stay here, I'se don't want you near Red." Doll stood there, not bothering to fight back as Spot closed the door, and she could faintly hear the door being locked. Right. Top shape. That was all Spot wanted. She couldn't help but wish that the hug maybe had lasted longer, and that she could have hugged back. It wasn't common knowledge that she actually liked Spot a lot, but Muse and Bear knew, well, because they were her best friends. Walking over to the window, she leaned on her elbows, staring at the beer bottle. Did she honestly have a drinking problem? Sad thing was, she knew how it started.

_The rain poured down on the fighters, some young, some old, but all had the spirit to win. It was a group of kids who had a rivalry with Brooklyn, to a point where they had to brawl to solve the problem. No weapons. Johanna fought side by side with her brother, Soldier, until Soldier saw something glint in the rain, and it's owner was heading towards his sister… he ran and pushed her out of the way, the knife slicing him instead. He crumpled, and the group ran, leaving only the Brooks. Johanna knelt down next to her brother, shaking him, "Soldier?" he didn't answer, "Soldier!?" hysteria built in her, "SOLDIER WAKE UP! MARCUS JOHNSON YOU BETTER WAKE UP RIGHT NOW! WAKE UP!" _

_A pair of strong hands pulled her back, and a group of Brooks grabbed Soldier, and Johanna felt herself being dragged away._

_One day later…_

_Spot walked along the lodge, looking for Johanna. She had been so wound up after her twin's death… he found her, but this was worse. She wasn't moving. He knelt beside her, "Johanna?" he nudged her in the side, still no movement, "You gotta start moving Dollface, come on this aint funny."_

She had gotten her name that way too. After her little, 'not move at all' stunt, she had been dubbed Doll, leader of the birds, and started drinking. It made you fit in a bit more in Brooklyn. It drowned away the problems of your past, and gave you the feeling of a good time. Damn, she really would have to stop drinking. Muse would laugh, go figure, and Bear, hopefully, would at least try to help her. Looking out the window, she sighed, watching the people. Mothers dragging their children behind them to get home after a long day, factory and dock workers going home; she wondered if any of them felt lonely.

'Of course,' she thought to herself, 'none of them have problems like we do. They probably never feel lonely.' A street performer played a tune on his harmonica, and Doll didn't hear the door open. "Hey," she heard Spot say, keeping the door open, "We'se done interrogating him, but we'se keepin' him in the pool room for now." She nodded her head, listening to the harmonica, asking quietly,

"Spot do you'se know how ta dance?" he looked confused, but replied,

"Of course I'se know how to dance. Why?"

"I'se don't know how to dance," she replied, looking out the window still, "No one evah taught me, who taught you?"

"Medda… ya know, if ya want, I'se could teach ya how to dance right now." She looked over at him, and he had a look of absolute seriousness. Doll walked over to him, and he grabbed her hand in his, then put a hand on her waist, "Now," he said, "Ye hold the boy's hand like this, then you'se put your hand on me shoulder." Doll complied, and Spot continued, "Hear da harmonica? Just sway to the music, and follow me lead." Again, she followed his orders, and she stumbled a little, trying to copy Spot, he smirked, "Don't follow my exact foot work. When I'se take a step back, you'se take a step forward, and the like." Nodding her head, she did that, and with the smirk still on his face, he said, "See? That ain't hard. That's dancin' right there for ya."

"It's hard to dance," she replied, "How do ya not step on people's toes?" he laughed, letting go of her and messing up her hair a little, to which she furrowed her eyes and looked up at him stubbornly, "What? It's true!"

Shaking his head, Spot replied, "You'se da only person I know who don't dance. Ye'll be fine, just don't dance with other boys."

"Why?"

"Cause you'll stomp all over them," he laughed, and Doll's stubbornness got the best of her, following behind him as he walked out the door, she replied,

"At least I'se can soak 'em if dey try to hurt me." And with dead serious in Spot's eyes, he replied,

"No, I will. If they'se even come in spittin' distance of you, I'se soakin' 'em." She gave him a confused look, but simply followed behind him as they made their way downstairs, where the others were slowly coming back from selling, they were going to have to tell them about the new captive, and everything in between.


	9. Chapter 9

**Alright, wrote this chapter, thank god *wipes away fake sweat* almost felt like I was gonna die. But I'm alive! Anyhoo, ****Mighty Lion,**** I will update whenever possible, ****methegirl,**** a thank you *bows* I try, ****cybale ****I like da newsie speak too, and ****kali, ****or shall I know say ****xxstarlightxxdreamerxx****! Nope no telling eachother they love eachother yet, but at some point, they will. And yep, he would, and of course Red's in trouble ;)**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bear, or any other newsies mentioned in previous disclaimers, along with not owning Newsies**

Telling the others about the hostage made a few mad. First their borough is threatened, now they had one of the Harlems which could basically spark a war. Everyone was in an uproar about it, until someone shouted, "WELL WHO'S KEEPIN' AN EYE ON HIM NOW?!" Spot and Doll looked at each other. Bear was still down there, but what about when Bear fell asleep? Spot whistled, and Doll got onto a table and shouted,

"SHUT UP YA BUMS AND LISTEN TO SPOT ALREADY!" they silenced, and she climbed down, nodding at Spot. He grunted, and stated loudly, for everyone to hear,

"IF YOU'SE WANNA WATCH OVER THE PRISONER! GET OVAH HERE! EVERYONE ELSE GET OUT!" the nodded, and one boy, a rather rat like boy, walked up. He was covered in dirt to a point where Doll bet that even his insides were the color of dirt, his hair long, black and greasy. His eyes were almost pitch black, and he had a gold earring in one of his ears; along with the appearance he had on some of the filthiest clothes, and when he smiled you could see some of his teeth were chipped. All in all, the boy was repulsing, even to Spot, who could have a pretty high tolerance of repulsive things. The boy bowed,

"Mister Spot, if I do say so myself," he said, a bit of a Southern accent popping out, "I'd be honored, to watch over you and Miss Doll's hostage, in fact it would be a privilege," he looked up, his eyes sneaky, "to be able to gather information, and to maybe become one of her, precious birds." She crossed her arms, and kept the boy under her gaze.

"You'se got a name?" Spot asked.

"Rat. Bayou Rat. All the way down from New Orleans, Mister Spot," he said, the grin still on his face. Doll eyed him. Something about him was wrong. She had never seen him before. She saw everyone who joined their forces. How did he know about the birds? Spot could also tell there was something off with Bayou. You could just tell. The way he walked, talked, his hospitality. He was mocking the two.

"We'll get back to ya on it," Spot said, jerking his head towards the door, "Get outta here, I'se still got an interrogation to run." You could see a quick flash of anger on Rat's face, but it quickly vanished, and rat smiled,

"But of course, Mister Spot," he tipped his hat to the two, "I best be followin' everyone's lead, and head out." Spot nodded, and they watched as he left. There was a moment of silence between the two. They each had the same thought, though. It ran through their minds, and you could tell they were thinking the exact same thing. She didn't have to be told, but she grabbed a hat and a dusty, patched up coat from the coat rack near the door and put it on, putting her hair under the hat and walking out the door, quickly following Rat. Spot went back to the pool room to interrogate Red.

When he opened the door, Red was still in his chair, and he smirked when he saw the Brooklyn leader, "Well, well, well, sounds like that didn't blow over to well. I could hear your little Dolly screaming at them just so they'd listen to you."

"You'se keep me boidy out of this, ya hear?" Spot growled.

"My, my," Red cooed, "Someone's touchy about something. What's wrong, Conlon, afraid the little Dolly's gonna get lost and find a new owner, so you'll be all alone?"

"Shut up," Spot growled, clenching his hands in fists, his knuckles white. Red smirked, tsking and shaking his head,  
"Ah, I see, you've grown attached to this little toy, haven't you. When you saw the toy needed a new owner you took advantage, and being selfish, you don't want to share."

"I said shut up."

"Why?" _Smack! _Spot's fist collided with Red's jaw. Red spat, and blood came out, a glare formed on his face. "Sheesh Conlon, prone to violence?"

"You'se gonna answer some questions, got it?" Spot snarled, glaring one of his infamous death glares. Red looked up, glaring right back, then grunting, as if saying for Spot to continue, and he did, "Why you'se messin' with me boidy?"

He smirked, shaking his head, "Because Spot, she's your pressure point, whether you like it or not. She's your ears and eyes, she's your source of intelligence. Face it, Conlon, without her, you are lost." Spot's jaw was set. He didn't want him to win. Spot Conlon never lost, and if he did it wasn't without a fight.

"I can get another boid if I wanted to."

"Then why keep her? Why not dispose of her?" Red looked at Spot, and when Spot hadn't said anything, he continued, "You can't dispose of her. You don't dispose of her because you _can, _you dispose of them because you _want _to, and that's why she's your pressure point."

"Why? Cause I don't want to dispose of her or any of that crap you'se feedin' right now?"

"No, you don't want her gone because you need her just as much as she needs you." Red's words hit like a slap to the face. "I do believe we're done here." Spot glared, before kicking Red in the face and storming out, slamming the door behind him. He was angry. That Red kid was sly, he knew how to read people… but in ways, Spot respected him. He never knew anyone who could read a person that well. If only that kid was Brooklyn, then Spot wouldn't have issues. Bear woke up, and stood guard, watching the prisoner, while Spot went out front, lighting a cigarette and waiting for Doll to come back. She shouldn't be too long. But as the time passed, she wasn't back. His mind thought to the worst, 'No,' he thought, 'No she's following Rat, he can't be-' then it clicked. Rat was a spy. Spot cursed loudly.

_Meanwhile…_

Doll stopped to catch her breath, leaning against a street lamp in Harlem. Keeping up with Rat was harder than it looked. Rat knew how to through someone off his tracks. Flipping the collar of the jacket up, she followed as best as she could. Harlem was unknown territory for her. Rat ran through it like he had been running through that neighborhood since he could run. This was the challenge, but she planned on catching him, and figuring out what he was doing here. This was the biggest challenge yet. Why was he in Harlem? Unless…. Rat stopped in an alley, and she pretended to not be there, like she was someone else, that she had no idea who he was. Rat smiled, "Why hi there Miss Doll, fancy meetin' you here. Don't lie, I know it's you, you sneaky little girl."

"So," she said nonchalantly, trying to act like everything was normal, "You'se come ta Harlem in your spare time. Spot's not gonna like that."

Rat laughed, "I don't work for Spot, Miss Doll," she looked over at him and he had an evil smile on, and before she could even do anything she felt a pair of hands grip her arms to her side, "Your gonna actually come with us, and answer a few questions, maybe even meet our leader, understand? Good? Great. Let's go back to _our _lodge. The _Harlem _lodge." Doll squirmed, inwardly freaking out. Crap. Every single cuss word she could think of ran through her brain. Of course, how could she not see that tactic coming? Spot probably had figured it out by now. Which meant only one thing: she was screwed, Harlem was gonna die, and she was probably gonna be grounded.

And grounding a bird, well, it wasn't your normal 'you can't do this' grounding, it was 'your never gonna go outside again' type grounding. And Doll didn't want grounding.


	10. Chapter 10

**WHY HI THERE! Chapter 10! This is the first time I've gotten to chapter 10! Whoot! Oh, and I got Spot's background music on iTunes (found it while randomly looking around a newsie site. Forgot the link). So yea, most of the time I was listening to that, I was writing. ****Xxstarlightxxdreamerxx ****the confession will come in due time, thank you ****methegirl,**** that chapter was fun to write cause I had on a bunch of suspenseful music, ****Mighty Lion, ****he does need a shower lol, hopefully he'll get a good soakin' soon, and yes, ****cybale, ****it is. Spot's out for blood 8D cause nobody steals Brooks without a death wish.**

**Disclaimer: see earlier chapters**

Spot paced, back on forth, Doll was gone. It had been hours since he had last saw her. Singer was still up, probably all hyped up on whatever candy he found. "So Spot whatcha gonna do?"

"Get Doll back."

"How?"

"I don't know yet Singah, I don't know." Singer watched Spot pace, and wondered why he could pace so much.

"How 'bout gettin' help from 'Hattan? Harlem's in 'Hattan, so maybe that'll help?" Spot looked over at Singer. He was right… but then again, Cowboy wasn't who Brooks would like to depend on. That would mean that if they got help from Cowboy, they'd have to help him. This was tough. But he had to get her back…

"Singer how fast can ye run?"

"Not that fast."

"Damn. I'll head over meself, tell Muse and Bear they'se in charge." Singer nodded, and Spot opened the door, a cool breeze flowing, almost blowing his hat off. Closing the door, he walked with confidence. No one would mug him. No one would hurt him. This was Kings County, this was Brooklyn. Spot _was _Brooklyn. He was the one thing that made Brooklyn, Brooklyn. There was nothing that could keep Spot out, only in. There were reasons he stayed with Brooklyn. Manhattan… they had the good life; it was why he preferred his Brooklyn. It had everything he ever wanted; almost. The one thing he needed was down in Harlem. He held onto the tip of his cane, his knuckles turning white. A glare came on his face. 'Just focus on getting to 'Hattan, Conlon, just focus on getting to Manhattan,' he thought.

Spot walked across the bridge, and was navigating his way to the Manhattan Lodge when he bumped into someone. Racetrack. He smirked, rolling some dice in his hand, "Well if it ain't Spot Conlon, come to give 'Hattan a visit this late at night?"

"Shut up Race, I need ta talk to Cowboy."

"I'll take ya too him, come on." Spot grunted, following Racetrack, who was trying to figure out what the Brooklyn leader was here for, "So, Conlon, hear ya gotta Harlem. Who'd ya leave in charge o' him, Doll?" Spot narrowed his eyes.

"She's gone. Harlem got her, sent a spy, but instead of getting their hostage back they got her." Spot kept his head down, glaring at the floor as they walked. Racetrack shook his head, tsking. No wonder Spot's here, he thought, he's come here to get her back.

"So ye goin' ovah to Cowboy to find Harlem?"

"No, I'se goin' cause I'm gonna need 'is help."

"Just Cowboy's?"

"Yeah."

"So the rest of 'Hattan ain't good enough ta help da infamous Spot Conlon?" Spot turned to glare at Race, who put his hands up defensively, "Easy tigah, don't get all worked up. I'se just sayin' your gonna need more help den Jack."

"I'se just gotta know where the Harlems are, and Brooklyn'll take care of the rest." Racetrack nodded. Yep. Someone was gonna die. You could tell by the way Spot said it, that he was mad, someone had stolen something of his, and when you stole from Spot Conlon… Race didn't like tothing about it. None liked to. When they reached the lodge, they saw Jack was still up, looking for Race. He didn't say anything when he saw Spot. He let Spot speak first. "I'se need youh help."

"Well that's a first. What with?"

"I'se need ta get to Harlem, you'se in Hattan, you can help me out here." Jack scratched the back of his neck, thinking it out.

"What's in it for me?"

"Me not beatin' da shit outta you'se."

"That sounds pretty agreeable, but ya gotta do bettah than that." Spot frowned, then said,

"Cowboy, if one of your men was kidnapped, Brooklyn would help, you'se gotta help me get even." Jack contemplated this thought. If he had Brooklyn on his side, then there would be no problems. No one would harass Manhattan. Before he could answer, they heard walking. Someone was walking near them. They stopped talking and watched the kid, who was shaking, he was short, and thin. Walking up to Spot, he held this out, his voice cracking, and sounding fearful.

"Th-thi- this is for you, Spot." And with that, he ran away, in the direction of Harlem. Racetrack shook his head.

"The kid's probably afraid of his own shadow."

"Makes you wonder what happens in Harlem…" Jack added. Spot opened the note, and read it.

_Conlon,_

_As you know, I have your bird, and you have mine. I propose a trade. Your bird for mine. But… there's more. You have to help me if you want her back. You'll come to Harlem alone. Don't bring anyone from Manhattan, or Brooklyn. Meet us at Warehouse 13. Tomorrow, October 29__th__, we'll discuss then._

_-Bones_

Spot reread the note, and handed it to Jack, who cursed. "You're gonna need Bronx for this."

"Ares hates me."

"Ares aint in charge. They've got a new leadah. A goil leadah."

"A goil? I ain't gettin' help from a goil."

"Nah Spot, but from what I hear, she's a better strategist than Ares, real smart too. Crazy, but smart. She'll probably help you'se." Spot thought about it. Someone better then Ares… Fine. This was the one time he would. When he started for Bronx Jack didn't ask questions, and neither did Race. They knew better than to mess with Spot right now. Hopefully Bronx had enough backbone to stay alive. He walked to Bronx, which wasn't too far, but far. By the time he got there the sun was rising. He walked up the steps of the Bronx lodge and knocked. Tapping his foot impatiently, he narrowed his eyes at the girl who opened the door. She glared in return.

"Can I'se help you wit sumthin?"

"Who's youh leadah?"

"That'd be me. You'se Spot?" he nodded, and looked her over. She was average height, with black hair and brown eyes. She had an air of intelligence to her.

"Yea, you'se leadah? Ya gotta name?"

"Queenie," she replied, looking around, then motioning him in, "Ye must be here to discuss Harlem. I'se remember Ares talking about that earlier."

"What happened to the bastard anyway?" he asked, following her to what looked like a parlor. It was actually nice. The lodge owner must've worked hard for it.

"Up and left for Chicago," she replied, sitting down in a chair, in front of it was a chess board. She moved one of the pawns, "So, you've come for help?"

"Yea," he replied, sitting down on a couch, "Read dis, tell me a strategy." She raised an eyebrow at him, but read it over, resetting the chess board and quickly playing something out. Spot watched, wondering what she was doing. First she moved a knight, which was corner by a pawn, but then instead of countering that, she moved the queen, to where she was captured, and then moved the king, then did many other moves to a point where it just seemed like she was having a chess game with herself. He cleared his throat. Without looking up, Queenie stated,

"Bones is smart. Manipulative. He's played his men right, but you've only taken worse by only defending. You've lost your queen. To get the queen back you must check mate Bones. Go alone. Make him think you're going to help him. He hasn't stated he's going to give your bird back at the warehouse, which means he wants trust in you'se, he wants ya ta trust him, when in truth, ye can't trust him."

Spot nodded, amazed, she continued, "Further the negotiations, stall them. Get your boid back. That's all I can tell you." Spot whistled.

"Cowboy wasn't lyin' when he said you'se was smart."

"I play a lot of chess. It strategizes." Spot nodded, thanked her, and left. He memorized everything she said. Go alone. Negotiate. Stall negotians. Get Doll back. It sounded simple when she said it but as he thought it over it became increasingly hard. Cowboy hadn't been joking. Queenie was smart. Real smart. Scary smart. He didn't know if he should be happy, or concerned that Queenie posed a threat to him? Who knew anymore. He'd have to wait till tomorrow to get to Doll, which made him angry. He stopped when he reached the bridge. Looking out, he said to himself,

"You'se can't be wit' her. You'se cant. She don't like her. It's business. Just business."

"Spot?" he turned around, and saw Trash. The old leader. He smiled, "How ya doin' Spot? Woulda thought you'd be sellin'."

"Brooklyn's run into problems." Trash came over and punched Spot lightly on the shoulder,

"You'll do fine."

"Trash?"

"Yea?"

"What do ya do, when the person you care 'bout most is taken away from you?" Trash was silent, but responded,

"Spot, you'se care 'bout someone? That's a first, but… knowing you, you'd give 'em hell. Get 'em back. …pardon my curiosity, but who is this dame you'se care about?" Spot was silent, and Trash could tell it was someone he knew, finally, he asked, "Is it Doll?" Spot stayed silent. That was a yes. He sighed, and looked at Spot, "I gotta run. Velvet's expecting me to stay home with her today. I'll see ya 'round Spot. K? Don't kill anyone… that you can't dispose the body of." He added the last part, just because he knew Brooklyn kids. What Brooklyn kid wouldn't kill someone? Well, most of the time it was on accident. But still. Whatever the person did, they pissed of Spot real good, taking someone from him. He didn't know much about Spot, but enough to know when something, or someone, was Spot's, you didn't take it away without wanting to die. You didn't steal from the king of New York.


	11. Chapter 11

**HA! Bet you weren't expecting me to update that fast! Well, I have! ****Xxstarlightxxdreamerxx ****I didn't know there was a Queenie and Bear in another story, but Bear belongs to ****Smiley94,**** and I have Queenie from a newsies site =) hopefully the author (saw the story you talked about *facepalm* I'm a bit slow, now that it's getting closer to summer) understands I didn't know about those two in her story. ****Cybale, **** I'm flattered! Hopefully it stays that way!**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own**

Doll looked out what window there was here… wherever she was. The window looked over Bottle Alley, which she knew for fact was in Harlem. But _where _in Harlem was she? She had ditched the jacket a while ago, but kept the hat on. Someone opened the door and she looked over, seeing a pretty well groomed newsie; hair cut to look nice and suave, wearing a nice vest, with an off white shirt under it, rolled up to his elbows. Not the kind of guy she'd expect to meet here. "Ah, Doll Johnson. What a…. pleasant, surprise. Got tired of Brooklyn?"

"Who are you?" she asked, staying near the window, tensed up, "Some rich boy tryin' ta be a newsie?" he glared, but responded,

"Allow me to introduce myself, Miss Johnson. My name, is Bones. Bones O'Malley." Bones. Wait a second, she knew that name… Ares second in command!

"I met you'se before! I remembah!" she said, "Why aren't use in Bronx wit' Ares?"

Bones laughed a dry laugh, "Ares? That fool? When he picked that Queenie girl to be leader, I left. He chose a _girl _over me to be leader. A girl who hears _voices _in her head and only knows strategy from Chess. I could do so much better than her!" his eyes burned with immense hatred for this girl, Queenie, "Too bad, I've got my own group of kids to lead now."

"So lemmie get dis straight," she said slowly, "Your runnin' Harlem, all 'cause Ares didn't pick you'se ta be leadah? That's pretty stupid Bones, even for a Bronxie like yourself." Bones walked over and slapped her, growling,

"Did you not learn your lesson earlier?! I sent Red to get rid of you, so I could get a one up on Brooklyn! But of course, _nothing _gets past Spot. He just _has _to win, doesn't he? Well now, he ain't the only one with birds!" She held her cheek, glaring. Bones was just as crazy as Ares! "Rat did a good job getting you out of the lodge, I'll give him that, but now I've got Conlon to deal with. So, we're gonna play a little game. It's called, Freeze." Yep. Bones was crazy, Doll thought to herself. When he took a step closer, she took a step back, bumping into something, yelping when someone grabbed her. She looked at the hands and saw it was Rat, and he chuckled. She squirmed, but he tightened his grip, "Come on Rat, we've got a game to play."

"Come on, Miss Doll," he drawled on the miss, pushing her forward as Bones walked out, "You've got a game to attend to." She recoiled a little from Rat, but he still held firm to her, and the two followed Bones, and the more she looked at her the surroundings, the more she got a feel for where she was. It was a warehouse. There were a few newsies in the hallway, and they quickly recoiled from Bones as he walked past, fear in their eyes. 'What does Bones do to these kids?' she thought, horrified. Next thing she knew, she was being shoved into another room. It was cold in here. She looked over at a bunch of buckets in the corner, and wondered what was in them. Rat let go of her, and grabbed a rope, tying her arm to a pipe. She tugged, Rat was good with knots, she noticed.

"So, as mentioned earlier, this little game is called Freeze. It's simple. You tell me what I want to know, and you won't lose, if you lose… well, you'll see what happens," Bones said, and Rat snickered, grabbing one of the buckets. Doll tugged at her wrist. "First question, why did Trash pick Spot, instead of someone with less… anger issues?"

"Go to hell," she spat, and Rat threw the contents of the bucket on her. It was water. Freezing cold water. Doll gasped, the shock surprising her.

"Now, now, Doll. You don't want to lose the game do you?" Bones tsked, "I was only asking a question. How 'bout we start with a new one? How come _you _are the second in command?" Doll stayed silent, glaring at him. Her clothes were soaking wet, and it was getting colder for her. Her teeth chattered, but she stayed silent. Another splash of cold water. She coughed. Now it was colder. "Hm… cat got your tongue? Let's try another. How come your _so _loyal to Spot?"

"Spot's a bettah," she said, through chattering teeth, "Spot's a bettah leadah then you." More water, she coughed, shaking now.

"Oh, a better leader?" he cooed, "How does this affect your allegiance with Spot? You only stay in Brooklyn cause he's a _better _leader?"

"He protects us," she said, shaking uncontrollably. It was cold. Too cold. She could barely feel her toes.

"Protects us? Who is these us you speak of? You're the only one important enough to hold hostage. Why, you're his little birdy. His toy. Did it ever occur to you that he only keeps you around, _just _because you get him what he wants? Who knows what he'll ask for next…" Bones let that thought linger in the air.

"You're sick." That was all she could manage to get out, and felt the cold water again. Ok, _now_ she couldn't feel her toes. Bones laughed.

"You certainly are a stubborn one. Well, Rat, how about we get the little Dolly nice and warm, eh? Spot's expecting her alive, well, during negotiations that is. He's not getting her back so easily…" he trailed off, thinking of a way to swindle Spot, keep his source of information out of reach. Doll was shaking, not only of cold but of fear. There wasn't much that truly scared her, but this… was petrifying. She remembered being this cold before, but it wasn't as cold as this. She had been with Soldier, and her father. Father had been a cargo ship worker, and at one point they had to go through a bunch of icebergs, and it had been so freezing one of the sailors toes fell off. Maybe one of her toes would fall off. When Rat cut the rope, his hands grabbed her arms and he led her back to the room from before. They were warm. She almost wanted to hug Rat to get warm. Opening the door, he pushed her in, saying,

"I'll get one of those other kids to get you warm, _Miss _Doll," it seemed that Rat had a thing with drawling the word miss, but that didn't bother her. About a minute later, a small, frail looking boy came in with a blanket, putting it at least five feet away from her. He scurried out of there quickly, as if Doll was a monster. Not bothering to see if he closed the door, she grabbed the blanket and wrapped herself in it, shivering. It was warm. Looking up, she did notice the boy had been smart and closed the door. She walked around, trying to get the feeling in her toes back. Walking back to the window, she looked out. The window had bars on it. Bones had set his lodge up pretty smart. No one got in, no one escaped. Did Bones rule with an iron fist? Or was he just messed up? She was starting to think along the lines of messed up.

Looking down at her clothes, she could still feel how cold they were, but were getting warmer. But then she realized she was wearing Spot's shirt. Ok, if Harlem didn't kill her, Spot might, because this had been his favorite shirt. Well… damn she couldn't think up an excuse for that. Looking back out the window, she said quietly to herself, "I'm not gonna die, I'm gonna live. Be Soldier. Survive. Be Soldier and live."


	12. Chapter 12

**LE GASP! I HAVE BEEN WRITING! XD I'm like, addicted to writing. It's like eating a bag of M&Ms, once you start you gotta finish. ****Methegirl, ****I am proud! ^^ ****Mighty Lion,**** he shows up, cause you asked lol. ****Cybale, *****bows* I try to make her tough, but with issues. And yay! Better with each update! ANYHOO! On with the story! **

**DISCLAIMER: pretty soon, I'm not even gonna say it. But… I don't own**

Spot banged on the door of Warehouse thirteen, practically ready to tear the door down. When Rat opened the door he almost choked him, but Rat put his hands up, and grinned his evil grin, "Now, now Mister Spot, she's here, but you can't see her. You've gotta see Mister Bones first." Bones, where had Spot heard that name before? With a glare on his face he followed Rat, who led him to a 'room.' Which was really just a piece of the warehouse blocked off with crates. Looking around, he noticed two doors, one for storage, another that led to stairs. He had a good feeling he knew where she was. He could tell.

"Well, Spot, you've grown since I saw you, what, a few days ago?" he heard, the person chuckling, Spot looked over, and on a bunch of crates, almost set up like a throne, was Bones. Ares' old second in command. "Bet you weren't expecting me, hm? Well, that's just one element. I believe we have some, negotiating to do?" Spot grunted.

"I'll negotiate, _after _I see that she's alright." Bones shook his head, a sly grin on his face.

"But of course, Spot. But of course. Rat, how 'bout we show Spot his little toy?" Rat nodded, opened one of the doors and in a few seconds, had Doll by the arm, and was literally yanking her over, "See Spot? Perfectly fine! Except, of course, she might have caught a slight chill, from the last came we played." Spot looked her over, she looked fine, but was coughing. Coughing meant sick. A low growl emitted from his throat.

"Spot?" he looked at Doll when she said that, and even though she was trying her hardest to hide the fear she felt, he could see it, and hear it in her voice. He stepped towards her but Bones put a hand out in front of Spot, pushing him back.

"Now, now, the deal was you got to _see _if she was alright. I never agreed to letting you actually go up to her. Rat, I think it's safe to put her back, now that Spot has seen she clearly is alright."

"No. Keep her here. I'se won't give Red back if you'se don't keep her here," Spot said firmly, looking Bones in the eyes. Bones snorted.

"You think I actually _care _about Red? What a laugh. Why would I care about someone of no value to me?" Spot kept his brows furrowed; a stubborn look on his face. Hearing that, it actually made him kind of pity Red, but he kept that at the back of his mind. Bones continued, "Besides, I do believe you and I must negotiate the return of the little toy over there," he jerked a thumb towards Doll, "and Red."

"Right," Spot nodded, "I'll make you'se a deal. You'se give Doll back to Brooklyn."

"And?" Bones asked, inquiring to know more, Spot kept his face straight, not looking at Doll,

"I'll talk to the leaders about getting Harlem to be its own." Doll's jaw dropped. Was he mad!? Finally finding the courage to speak up, she said,

"Spot don't do dis. It ain't worth it. Spot don't you dare make a deal wit' Bones!" She had moved to go towards but Rat pulled her back, "Spot you don't know what they do here. Spot look at me!" he wouldn't look at her, "Spot, look at me! Listen to me! Please!" Rat had to hold her back, and Spot kept his gaze forward, no matter how much he wanted to look over. Bones chuckled, a grin forming on his face, and Spot could almost see what Doll was scared of.

"Women, Spot, you cannot trust them. We have a deal; I'll be watching to make sure you keep your end, on getting Harlem voiced. You'll have your little birdy back on the thirty-first. Be at Irving Hall, Medda will be having a costume party, and you'll get her back then."

"How will I know which one is you'se?" Spot inquired.

"You'll figure it out, I'm sure you'd be able to recognize your little Dolly anywhere," he chuckled, and motioned for Rat to take Doll back. She looked over her shoulder at Spot, who had his head hung, but looked up at her, his icy eyes meeting her dark eyes. He shook his head, and she kept her eyes glued on him. What had he done? Bones was practically the devil himself! Rat shoved her back in the room and closed the door, locking it. "Oh, and Rat, escort Spot here out of Harlem, we wouldn't want any trouble, now would we?" Rat nodded, and jerked his head towards the exit, and Spot followed.

"So Mister Spot, You really think you're gonna win against the fine gentleman known as Mister Bones?" he inquired, half sneering and half amusing himself. Spot grunted,

"I'se don't care if I win or lose, unlike Harlem."

"Well that's a shame Mister Spot, Harlem could use a fine fighter such as yourself."

"I fight for Brooklyn. And Brooklyn only."

"Well then if all don't turn out well, maybe you'll fight against Mister Bones, and we'll see who's the better fighter." Rat chuckled a little, and they reached the Brooklyn bridge, "Farewell mister Spot. See you on Hallows eve." Spot turned around to watch Rat leave, then started over the bridge himself, followed by Jack, surpisingly.

"Hey. I'se thought you was down in Brooklyn."

"Nah, negotiatin' today."

"Ah. I see, so what's goin' down wit' Harlem?"

"I'se get Doll back on Halloween. What I don't get is why you aint da one 'arlem's messin' wit', since they're in your borough." Jack was silent. Then, he finally said,

"Cause you're Brooklyn. If ye get Brooklyn ye get everywhere else. Spot I know you've heard dis a lot but you're a king, threaten the king you threaten him personally, you threaten New York. You'se threatened, and now not only do ye gotta save your borough, but ours." Spot thought about this. He had never thought himself king. He knew he was now, but refused to believe it. Kings weren't cold hearted like he was. Finally, he said,

"I am no king, I'se just want this done wit'."


	13. Chapter 13

**WHEW! *wipes away fake sweat* wrote this out finally. I had to figure out how to write it and everything! ****Methegirl,**** *bows* I do what I can, and ****xxstarlightxxdreamerxx****, it's a Newsies Roleplay, we're trying to get a bit more active, and it's called x1x8x9x9x (can't cause I'm sure there's rules against advertising and yea). You could probably find us on Google. ****Mighty Lion**** I didn't expect people to think lol, but that's awesome :) glad I could contribute to the thinking, and ****cybale, ****XD that's awesome. You now have me thinking of candy. **

**Disclaimer: See Other Chapters**

It felt like Halloween would never come, to Doll. There were more 'games' after Spot left, one that was basically a very sick twisted version of tick tack toe, which was where if you didn't answer, you'd get either and x, or an o. She had about three x's on her side, and an o on her stomach. And it wasn't from paint either. Those x's and o's were gonna leave their marks. Nope, Bones had used a knife. Doll was scared of knifes, still is. Knives killed Soldier, and ever since she had always been scared of them. Rat opened the door, and she glared in his direction. He tsked.

"Shame, Miss Doll, I'm only here five seconds and you're already glarin'. And to think I was excited for showin' you your costume," He grinned one, and it felt like he was mocking her. He tossed a box in her direction, "You've got five minutes to change before we go. Change quickly, cause I'm leavin' the door unlocked and two very bored newsies outside." And with that, he closed the door and Doll opened the box wearily. Inside, was a simple dress, but it looked like the kind of dress a doll would wear… well, Bones had said Spot would know who they were when he saw them…

Putting the dress on quickly, and tugged at it. It fit snuggly. Bones must have figured that much out about her. Shortly after she put it on Bones walked in, wearing a black and white tuxedo, the white on the sleeves, and other areas. He was a walking skeleton. It fit him, made him look taller. Doll, on the other hand, felt quite short. "Now," he said, grabbing a black cane, "I see your dressed. Let's go, I want this transaction to go quick and smoothly."

Doll stayed near the window, a glare on her face, Bones grabbed her arm and led her forcefully out of Warehouse Thirteen, and out towards Irving Hall, where Spot was waiting for them.

Spot tapped his cane impatiently, sitting at a table in Irving Hall. Medda had greeted him when he came in, and frowned when she saw he wasn't wearing a costume. He just stated he was going as himself, but Medda just tsked. She would have questioned why, but knew it best to not question. Now, he was sitting at a table, on his second beer and was starting to get impatient. The Manhattan newsies had come in, but still no Bones and Doll.

Bones said he'd know them when he saw them. So he was going to have to work off of that. He had Red at the table, too. He was dressed up in what seemed to be a pirate costume. They had gotten it from Moth, who was going as a bird, and she had to make sure he looked good, apparently. Moth… was a person he'd never understand. Then, he saw the side door open, and close quickly. A tall figure was on one side of someone, and another, who looked like some kid straight out of a swamp, was on the other. He recognized them immediately. Nodding his head towards them, he watched as they made their way over.

"So, Bones pulled through for me?" Red asked. After a while, Red had proved less of a problem for Brooklyn, and he seemed to show a bit of a disdain for Harlem. That got Spot to be a tiny bit more sympathetic, so all he could do was nod at Red. When Bones walked over, he plopped down, still holding Doll's arm. From what Spot could see, his grip was like a snake; tight.

"Spot, Red," Bones said, "Alright, here's how we're gonna do this-"

"No," Spot said firmly, "Were gonna do this my way. You'se gonna hand Doll ovah, and Red's gonna go over. You'se gonna leave aftah that." Bones put his hand up defensively, nodding. He let go of Doll, and Red got up, a bit unwillingly but started to walk away. Bones looked about ready to yell over at Red when Spot said, "I'se nevah said Red was gonna go ovah to you." A smirk played on Spot's lips, and Bones growled, but got up, going to grab Doll but Spot took his cane and put it in front of Bones, pushing him back lightly with it, "Deal's a deal Bones. I'm keepin' me end up, you'se gotta keep yours." Rat had to drag Bones away.

Doll looked at Spot, and almost felt crushed by his arms. Slowly, trying to get arms out a bit from under his grip, she hugged him back, burying her head in chest. They stood like that for a minute, before Spot kissed the top of her head lightly. She was a bit shocked, but didn't want to let go. Soon enough, though, they did. "Come on," Spot said, "Let's go home." They walked slowly, and in silence. Spot didn't know quite sure what to say, but when he heard her cough, he stated bluntly, "You'se sick."

"It's just a cough," she replied, "I'se had coughs before. I'll be fine Spot." He didn't believe her. Stopping her, he put his forehead against hers, and tried to see if she was burning up or not. She was a little warm, but that was probably from being in Irving Hall. Doll closed her eyes. To her, this was a dream. It was all a dream. Spot didn't like her like that. But Spot was tempted. She was right there. At the moment he felt that Red and Bones were right. Doll _was_ his. She was _his _bird, so why couldn't he have what he wanted. Leaning closer, his lips were an inch away from hers when he pulled away. 'No,' he thought, 'Trash put us as leaders for one reason only, we'se work well together. That's all.'

But then he remembered what Trash said. Doll was turning around to continue walking, trying to hide the small blush that had started to creep on her cheeks, when Spot grabbed her in one fluid motion, tilted her chin up and kissed her on the lips. Pulling away quickly, he grunted, looking down and started for Brooklyn. Doll followed, but a few feet behind him, her head down also. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't.

But it had. When they reached the lodge, they parted, not bothering to mutter a good night, or see you tomorrow. But the next day though, they both knew they were going to have to face each other. Joy.

_Next Day_

The day went on a bit normal for Doll, sort of. There was hugging to a point where Doll was almost sure one of her ribs was cracked, and a whole bunch of, 'why did you go alone you could have' blah, blah, blah. Thankfully, that was all done with. Walking in to the lodge, she looked around for Bear or Muse. She had to sign in, but… there was a problem. Letters and numbers got all jumbled up for her, which made it hard to read, or write. That's why she always listened as other newsies discussed headlines, that way she could make hers. And she had Muse or Bear sign her in. They were the only two she trusted with that secret. Not Spot.

Never Spot.

There were things you told Spot, and things you didn't. She couldn't see Bear or Muse. Doll bit her lip. Damn… she thought. Singer walked in, and saw her stalling, "What's wrong? Forgot how to write your name!" he laughed a little, and Doll scowled. Spot walked in. Tapping his foot impatiently, he said,

"You'se gonna sign in or not?" Doll sighed, picked up the pencil, and tried to focus. The letters were jumbling up, she was sure one of them was upside down. Letting go of the pencil, she looked down at her hands, and very quietly replied,

"I can't."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14! Joy! Happiness! ****Mighty Lion! ****If you can guess why Doll can't read or write, you are awesome (hint: it's a disease that some people have), ****methegirl,**** your wish is my command! ****Xxstarlightxxdreamerxx,**** feel free to talk to us in the cbox, or drop the admin account a pm :), ****cybale ****I'm happy I was able to bring joy to your day, and ****Sweetblintez****… what I don't understand is why your reading the story if you seem to hate it that much. A lot of stories here on fanfiction have newsgirls wearing trousers, and there WERE newsgirls, and you didn't go to jail for that, it was just something that wasn't common. Also, spell check is lovely. Sorry if that came off rude, but honestly it's kind of pointless to bash someone's story if you don't like it, cause it doesn't help anyone.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bear or Muse, or the Newsies.**

Spot's jaw dropped, "You can't?" Doll shook her head, tears forming and she pushed herself from the desk and was almost sprinting through the lodge to get away. There were reasons she never told anyone besides Bear and Muse. First, it was embarrassing to have letters and numbers and the like be jumbled up. Second, Bear and Muse were her best friends, they could be trusted. And thirdly… there just weren't things you told Spot. She stopped when she was sure she was far enough, leaning her forearms on a wall, she rested her forehead against the wall, and silent tears streaked her face. She was far too embarrassed to care if anyone saw her.

Turning around she leaned her back against the wall, sliding down to where she was in a sitting position, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at her feet. She hated being stupid. Doll never liked being stupid. It was horrible. Not that she tried to be stupid; she remembered when she first tried to read, trying to understand what things said. Soldier had always read stuff to her, and then when he left Bear and Muse took over. They had done such a good job at hiding it. But of course, things just had to wrong, didn't they?

Spot stared at Singer, a scowl on his face. Singer looked at Spot in disbelief, "Well how was I suppose ta know!?" he shook his head, and watched as Singer signed in, then signed in for himself, then for Doll quickly. Walking around the lodge, he started wondering where his friend could possibly be. How could she have not told him!? It soon became relevant that it would be quite hard to find her, seeing as how she was practically trained at the lodge her whole life to be able to blend in, to not be seen. His thoughts started to linger on that, what it'd be like to be in the background, but quickly went back to trying to find her.

"Marco," he called out, listening carefully for a response.

"Not now, Spot," came a quiet reply, but a reply anyway. He knew that voice anywhere, he turned in the direction it came from and followed.

"Doll where are you?"

"Just leave me alone."

"No." He heard a soft sigh.

"Fine, Polo." This continued for a few minutes, until Spot found her. Sitting down next to her, he stated,

"Doll look at me." She shook her head no. "Look at me Doll," she looked straight ahead, and Spot's patience was running low, "Johanna Ashilinn Johnson you have five seconds to look at me before I'se make you look at me." Doll looked at him, her eyes sunken. "Doll why didn't you'se tell me?" Her voice cracked a little, barely above a whisper, she said,

"I don't want to be stupid."

"Doll you aren't stupid," he persisted, "Your one of the smartest goils I know, and you've got pretty eyes," he bit his tongue. Spot hadn't meant to say that out loud. Hell he hadn't even meant to kiss her. Doll looked at him, a look of shock on her face.

"You'se t'ink my eyes are pretty?" Spot nodded, sensing there was no escape to this, he added,

"Yea, I do. I'se always thought they were. Doll, you'se kind of one of the most beautiful people I've ever met." Doll looked at Spot, and he stared at the wall ahead, keeping his face emotionless.

"Really? …Spot that's saying a lot. Ya know, I always thought your eyes were kind of beautiful too, in a more boyish way though." Spot looked at her, and saw that she was speaking the truth. He took her chin in his rough, calloused hands, leaned in, and kissed her lightly on the lips, what surprised him most was when she kissed back. Breaking this kiss, Spot stated, resting his forehead on hers,

"I hate my eyes."

"Well that's too damn bad Spot Conlon, cause I'se think they're beautiful," she replied, remembering to breath. This felt like a dream, a very wonderful dream. Spot got up, and held his hand out for Doll,

"Come on, let's go, before everyone thinks we ran off somewhere." Nodding, she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. Doll almost expected him to let go of her hand, but he didn't. Instead, he took his arm and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her next to him. This was something she didn't question. It was almost one of those things that was simple. Spot Conlon was one of those boys, where if something was his, it was _his._ They past a few newsies, and could hear them whispering. Spot looked over them, saying, "What you'se starin' at?" One of them, Runner, said, a bit fearful because of the look on Spot's face,

"Well, we was just wonderin' why the hell you had your arm on Doll's waist, since last I'se checked you'se weren't togethah." Spot looked at Doll, then at Runner, and stated quite simply,

"Do you t'ink we're togethah?" He started stumbling on his words.

"Well, of course I really shouldn't be voicing me opinion on this since it's your personal lives and all," he continued to ramble, while all the while, Spot and Doll looked at eachother, Spot mouthed quickly, 'well are you?' to which he mouthed back, 'well gee, what do you think?' to which Spot smirked, and then cut Runner off,

"We'se togethah Runnah, don't get your panties in a knot." Runner scowled, but nodded, and the two continued walking over to the living room area of the lodge. Singer was the first to see them, and he nudged Muse in the side, who slapped him upside the head, before smirking at Spot and Doll. She had a lot to say about them being together, because her being Doll's best friend, she had always known of Doll's crush on Spot, but instead, she simply said to the two,

"It's about damn time you'se two got togethah."


	15. Chapter 15

**Short Chapter, I know, but I've been mustering up every single muse I can get for you, that, and there is reason it's short. Reason: Next Chapter is ALL Harlem. Yea, I know, I spoiled it, but trust me, it'll be **_**worth **_**it. I promise! Forgive me for not updating in FOREVER. Yea, summer school is a killer, I've been getting my P.E credit, so that drains a lot of energy. Again, sorry it's short. I promise that at least by Sunday you will all have a new chapter! I promise to NOT give up on this chapter! I plan to get at least 20 chapters for this story. **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own.**

_One Week Later…_

Walking down the streets of Brooklyn, Doll looked around nervously. Ever since the Harlem incident, she had been quite jumpy. That, and it didn't help that it seemed Red had joined the Brooklyn ranks. Worse yet; Spot trusted him. Enough to let him watch over his girl if need be. In fact, he was walking with her right then. "Don't worry Doll," Red said, "I'm not gonna let them get you, I'se owe Spot way too much to let you get hurt." She rolled her eyes, the brown in them flickering with sarcasm and the stubbornness of a Brook.

"Red, as much as I'se appreciate it, I don't need a bodyguard. Really," she replied, looking forward, running a hand through her hair.

Red snorted, "Please, you're what, four foot ten? You can't take down Bones."

"Five foot, thank you very much!" she replied dignifiedly, Red laughed a little and ruffled her hair.

"You remind me of my sister." She looked at him surprised,

"You have a sister?"

"Yea, Annabelle. She's at home, in Texas." Doll nodded her head, it seemed Red really didn't have any cruel intentions anymore. After that, the two walked in silence, before finally reaching their destination; the Brooklyn lodging house. Red stayed in the living room, talking to one of the other boys, while she went up to the roof. She didn't have to be a mind reader to know Spot was up here. She had seen him while walking. He didn't have to look back to know she had her eyes narrowed and her eyebrows furrowed.

"Why do you'se insist I have a bodyguard?"

"Cause," Spot said, taking a drag from his cigarette, blowing smoke out of his mouth, "I'se don't want you gettin' hurt."

"Spot," Doll replied stubbornly, "You'se know full well I don't need a bodyguard, you'se never cared before-"

"Well I'se do care," he interrupted, "It ain't safe for you to walk around alone. I ain't gonna lose you, so if I'se have to send someone to walk with you'se everywhere I'll do it." Doll frowned, furrowing her eyebrows stubbornly. "Dollface I ain't lettin' ya get hurt, you'se me goil, not another's. I still have to deal with Bones."

"You have Red, send him back if you want information on Bones, or send me, I'se the best you got Spot, you can't ground me." When most heard someone like her say grounding, they thought it was just a punishment. For a bird, grounding meant no going outside, and no collecting information. At all. To her that was hell, besides Harlem of course. Doll looked at Spot, eyebrows furrowed stubbornly. He looked back at her just as stubborn.

"Hey Spot I think that-" Singer said, walking up, but quickly stopping when the two looked at him with a look that explained herself, and watched as he started backtracking towards the door, "I'll… tell you later! Bye!" Spot sighed after he left, and sent Doll a look that said, 'don't fight me.' Sighing softly, she looked down, muttering,

"It ain't fair."

"Johanna Ashilinn Johnson you say dat one more time and you ain't even leavin' da lodge," Spot said, "Cause I'se aint lettin' me goil get in fights, and I ain't gonna put her in danger. Just let me negotiate wit' Bones until this mattah is resolved, ok?"


	16. Chapter 16

**YES! I GOT A CHAPTER DONE! ^^ I hope ya'll are happy. And I'm glad I made some people squeal without trying, and yes, Doll is dyslexic. I've seen blind newsies, mute newsies, but never a dyslexic newsie. That, and it just kind of adds to her stubbornness lol. Anyway, here it is, sadly, as much as I wanted to put the Brooks in this chapter, I couldn't, would ruin it. So, I decided that I'd give you Harlem. I promise at some point I will put more Manhattan in this, or I might start a story for Rat, cause well, you'll see after reading this chapter ;). Sadly, Spot doesn't save the day for this, but someone else does. :) I hope you enjoy it.**

**DISCLAIMER: I Don't Own anything except for OC's, Newsies belongs to Disney**

"Boss, them birds are smarter than we thought," Rat said, toothpick between his teeth, "They know this place better than I do." His already tan skin seeming darker, Rat almost looked exactly like one. Sitting across from Ghost, who by now was mad that he had gotten tricked, the two we're trying to get what they wanted: Harlem as it own. Ghost wanted it badly, more than he wanted Spot Conlon gone. But him and his god damn birds… "Mister Ghost, those birds are trained to not tell anything to the enemy, we need to infiltrate from the inside. Red's there. He can infiltrate for us."

"He won't," Ghost growled, "If you make things for him better, he's forever loyal. I could only pay him so much. Besides, Spot knows how to keep 'em in Brooklyn."

"Actually," came a voice from behind them, Ghost tensed up, "You should be trying elsewhere. Your washed up, Ghost, if I find out any more that your harassing the borough I led for a good long time, your gonna be in the gutters."

"Trash," Ghost said, trying to sound cheerful, "What brings you here? I thought you were working in the factories now, since, after all, you are in your twenties now."

Trash growled, "I ain't here to take your bullshit Ghost. You know you're just as washed up as I am now, but at least I still got respect. You don't, I suggest trying elsewhere, where the places don't have a place like Brooklyn."

"Then why do you have to tell me?" Ghost snarled back, "You're not the king anymore, your throne belongs to a kid. Just wait, he'll be done with. I plan on killing him soon." Trash glared, saying calmly,

"You know Ghost? Your dumber than you look," smirking, he pulled something out, a badge, "Ghost your under arrest for attempted homicide and kidnapping." Ghost's jaw dropped. The old Brooklyn leader, was a _cop. _"Good disguise huh? Fakin' as a factory worker, bein' a deadbeat. It actually helps bring in the dough," walking over to Ghost, he grabbed his wrists and handcuffed them behind his back, "Thanks Rat, I knew I could trust you, even if it meant lying to Spot and Doll." Ghost looked surprise, turning his attention to Rat, who was brushing himself off, surprisingly no twang to his voice. It was more a, what? A Chicago accent?

"Anytime boss, I just hate havin' ta lie to the good guys, ya know?"

"Yea, come on, I'm gonna take this guy away, can you watch these guys for me? Get them a bit sorted out? I think I saw a few injured." Rat nodded his head, ignoring Ghost as Trash took him away. Thank God Trash was strong, otherwise they'd be a tiny bit screwed. Sighing, Rat walked around, looking around, until finally, he spotted a little boy, kneeling down, he said,

"It's ok, he's gone. You're safe now. I promise, that guy," he jerked his head towards where Ghost left, "He ain't gonna hurt you or anybody else no more." Getting up, he ruffled the kid's hair, walking around more, trying to find any other survivors of Ghost's reign. If there we're any. Sure, he was a great actor, so had Red, that was why he was down in Brooklyn now. Trash promised him that somehow he'd end up in Brooklyn, and Red seemed to be in debt to it. Rat on the other hand, well, he hate to admit it, but he was a scab. An imposter of a newsie. He was in their ranks because the boss ordered it. Boss wanted him to be the one to at least try and keep some newsies in line and out of the Refuge. They were better than Warden Snyder, the bulls. Taking a pencil out from his pants, along with a pad of paper, he wrote down, _November Third, Eighteen Ninety-Eight; took down an egotistical newsie, Brooklyn saved._

Running a hand through his greasy hair, he couldn't wait until he could get a bath, he craved one. Being 'Bayou' Rat wasn't fun. He liked it better when he was 'Street Rat' or anything better than the Bayou Rat disguise. It always made him feel bad. That, and going against Spot Conlon… that was terrifying. You didn't mess around with Spot Conlon, it seemed. Rat didn't know what to do anymore, still work for the Bulls, or actually join the ranks. Sighing, he shook his head, saying, "Once a scab, always a scab Joey, that ain't gonna change." If it did change, it would be a miracle. If he could, he would. He definitely would. Leaning against a wall, he looked around, wishing he could just go home, take a bath, and at least sleep until eight o'clock. That, and get a decent meal. Looking around, he spotted a tall, dark skinned boy, calling over, "Hey, what they call you?"

"Mali," he replied, his voice deep.

"Well Mali, you're in charge ok?" the kid nodded his head, and Rat started walking down the hall, anticipating getting out of there. How Ghost had survived Harlem, since it was an all African American neighborhood, confused him; how the hell could a white kid survive? Rat was tanned, he could thank the Italian in him for making him dark, but that barely let him survive Harlem. The only reason they hadn't hurt him and Red was because they were going to help them. Opening the door, he took a deep breath, enjoying the light breeze that passed by him. Walking quickly, and efficiently out of Harlem, he wondered if he should go home, or not. Maybe Manhattan would accept him. Even if he was a scab. Shaking his head, he thought, 'no, they don't want scabs like me.'

Jamming his hands into his pockets, he thoughtlessly walked back to the station, not bothering to acknowledge anyone, just signing the file labeled, 'Ghost' and going out back, thinking of all his possibilities, until finally, he decided what he was going to do about being a scab.

He was gonna leave the bulls, become an actual newsie. It was a longshot, but he'd try. The first place he was gonna try? Brooklyn. Rat didn't have to think it over, he decided it right then and there, and nothing could change his mind, nothing at all.


	17. Chapter 17

**GASP! JENNICA HAS ANOTHER CHAPTER! Well yea I do, but I'm gonna try to at least write more. I want to get to at least twenty chapters before I finish this off. I have just recently started high school, and WOW. It's very tiring. ANYHOO hopefully I can write more this weekend. For all of you still reading, glad to know you guys still are :) **

**Disclaimer: oh you know the drill. Just read the other disclaimers.**

Sitting on a couch, Doll gave off the current aura of, 'Go near me or help me and I swear to God I'm gonna kill you.' Why? She was actually trying to read. Yep, was she successful so far? Well… in the nicest way of putting it, no, she wasn't. Brows furrowed, a frown on her face, she tried to decipher what she was reading, "Let's see," she muttered to herself, "There's a… what is that? A U or an N? No, no," Groaning in frustration, she threw the book at the wall, grabbing a pillow and burying her head in it, screaming. Hearing the door open though, she tensed up. Looking up slowly, she sighed with relief, seeing the old leader, Trash. "Hey Trash."

"Hey, can you get Spot for me? I need to talk to him," Trash said, looking around the lodge. Nodding, she walked up the stairs and to Spot's room, knocking on the door.

"Spot, Trash is 'ere, he wants to talk to you or somethin'," Doll said, and Spot opened the door, nodding at her and walking down the stairs, her following close behind, watching Trash behind Spot.

"You know Doll, when I say I need to talk to Spot, I mean I have to talk to Spot. There's no other way I can put it, ok?" Trash asked her, as if he was the leader again, and they were little kids, scowling, she grabbed her book and headed back upstairs, to the girls room. Spot and she didn't share a room, that'd be strange, they had only been courting for about a month, so why should they be sleeping in the same room yet? That and Spot didn't like people in his room. Enough was said right there.

Spot crossed his arms, "What's dis I'm hearin' 'bout you bein' a bull Trash?" Trash sighed, rubbing the back of his head, eyes closed,

"Yea, I'm a bull now. Spot it pays, I'm a homicide detective now, do you know how much that pays? Your buddy Bones, has been going under the alias of Ghost, attempting the murder of Ares. Betcha you didn't know that, hm? One of his newsies had stolen Ares' beer, and was found dead in the morning. I traced it back to Bones, or as he calls himself now Ghost, and now he's gone. Why not _thank _me because that saves your goil and newsies."

"What about Rat," his eyes narrowed, "You didn't say anything about him."

"Rat works for me," Trash replied calmly, "He goes under the alias of Rat, Bayou Rat, Street Rat, or just Rat, and he gets undercover for me. He-"

"He's a scab," Spot finished, narrowing his eyes, "A scab that helped kidnap my goil."

"Spot, it was the only way he wouldn't break his cover, relax. Besides, he's-"

"Still. A. Scab." Trash gave him a stern look, to which Spot replied, "Why don't you'se just go home, Mr. Homicide detective." Nodding, he took his leave, and Spot felt a pent up anger inside of him. Trash had been like a father to him, and now he was some stupid cop? He punched a wall in anger.

"You ok?" Came a voice from the stairs, and he looked up, not answering her as she walked down the stairs, "What did he want?" Spot didn't want to lie to Doll. But he would.

"Just checkin' up on us, nothin' to worry 'bout," lying. He was good at it. There were things he wasn't going to tell her, and there were reasons why. Nodding her head, Doll had walked over to Spot, hugging him and burying her face in his shirt, thinking. This was something that seemed to become second nature to her, ever since she got into a relationship with Spot. He certainly didn't mind any; and the two stood there, her thinking, and him staring down at her. He heard her yawn, and frowned a little.

"Are you tired?" he asked, and she shook her head no. Knowing she was stubborn, he said, "You're tired, I'se know you well Doll, you're tired."

"No I'm not," she replied stubbornly, hugging Spot tighter, "It's just been a long day."

"Yea, and you'se had a long week, you need to rest. Sleep."

"I'm not tired," this was almost ended with a yawn, until Doll tried to hold it in. Knowing that if she fought back anymore Spot would probably drag her upstairs by force. Looking up at Spot, she gave him a, 'You win this round but next time I'm winning,' look. Walking back up the stairs, she looked at Spot, watching as he headed for the kitchen, before finally reaching the top of the stairs, she looked forward, heading to the girl's room. Looking around, she opened the door quietly, before making her way to her bunk, and flopping onto the old bunk.

It wasn't gonna break just yet, but it was old. The girl's room was probably the emptiest room of the House; there weren't a lot of girls tough enough to withstand Brooklyn. Her and Muse, along with Tick Tock, they could handle it there, that was because they all came there as kids; her at seven, even though she'd go with her dad on the boat, Tick at eight, and Muse at thirteen, all very young ages. They, by far, had been the only girls to truly stay in Brooklyn. Sure, there were girls who thought they could survive here, but they never could last without protection. It was because unlike most girls, Brooklyn girls knew that in order to stay alive, you had to fight, and you had to become an equal to the male. But of course, now she had to find a way to be an equal to Spot, because, well, now, she couldn't even leave the lodge without Spot wondering where the hell she was and if she was hurt. Sure, it was flattering, but she needed space. He gave her crap for her drinking, while she didn't for his drinking.

Oh the joys of being the girl of the Brooklyn king.


	18. Chapter 18

**HELLOOOOOOOO. Sadly, this is the last chapter. Why you may ask? WELL if I leave it off here, then there might possibly be a sequel ;] sorry it's short, but it leaves me a wide variety for more stories involving this twosome. If you want the sequel, tell me. Also, if you have any requests Newsies related, TELL ME! I love filling requests ^^. Anyhoo, last chapter. Again, sorry it's short. **

**DISCLAIMER: see others.**

_One Week Later_

Two Brooklyn newsies stood on the edge of the roof of the lodging house, looking out at Brooklyn. They could see the seagulls circling around the docks at sunset, both of them looking out at what one saw as his land, and the other saw as the maze she ran through every day. They were a boy and a girl. The boy taller than her, but shorter than the normal sized boy. He was the king, and the girl was his bird, no, his queen. She never thought herself the queen, but apparently others did. She didn't think herself that.

"So Spot," she said, looking out, "What's next on our list."

"The factory kids seem to be rioting a bit," he looked at her, "I want you to check it out Doll." A smirk played on her lips.

"Takin' New York, one step at a time, eh Conlon?"

He replied coolly, "They're a threat to Brooklyn. Threats gotta be taken care of." The two looked at each other, before looking back out at Brooklyn. It was silent between the two. Anyone knew the dangers of Spot, and once it was set for something like this, you bet that something was going to happen. "I'll talk to the other leaders about this later. They might want in. None of them want New York run by their kind." There was another silence, until Doll asked,

"When do we start?"


End file.
